;-NRLF 


mmEm 


. 


1EV .    JOHN     MT  K  K  A  V, 


RECORDS 


OF    THE 


LIFE  OF  THE  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY; 


LATE 


MINISTER  OF  THE  RECONCILIATION, 


SENIOR  PASTOR  OF  THE  UNIVERSALISTS,  CONGREGATED  IN  BOSTON, 

WRITTEN  BY  HIMSELF. 

THE   RECORDS  CONTAIN   ANECDOTES  OP  THE  WRITER'S   INFANCY,  AND   ARE 
EXTENDED   TO    SOME  YEARS   AFTER  THE   COMMENCEMENT  OF 

HIS   PUBLIC   LABOURS   IN   AMERICA. 

• 

TO    WHICH    IS    ADDED, 

A  BRIEF  CONTINUATION, 

TO    THE    CLOSING    SCENE. 
BY  A  FRIEND. 

To  Christian  Friends  this  Volume  makes  appeal ; 
FRIENDS  are  indulgent.. ..CHRISTIAN  FRIENDS  CAN  FEEV 


BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED  BY  MUNROE  Aj|D  *HUKo> 
NO.   4,    CORNHItL.  * 
1816. 


-DAT' 


DISTRICT  OF  MASSACHUSETTS  :  To  WIT  : 

District  Clerk's  Office. 

BE  it  remembered,  that  on  the  sixth  day  of  May,  A.D.  1816,  in  the  fortieth 
year  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States  of  America,  JUDITH  SARGENT 
MURRAY,  of  the  said  district,  has  eposited  in  this  office  the  Title  of  a  BOOK,  the 
right  whereof  she  claims  as  proprietor,  in  the  words  following,  to  wit  : 

"  Records  of  the  Life  of  the  Rev.  JOHN  MURRAY;  late  minister  of  the 
Reconciliation,  and  senior  pastor  of  the  Universalists,  congregated  in  Boston. 
Written  by  nunselr.  tfhe  records  contain  Anecdotes  of  the  writer's  infancy,  and 
are  extended  to  some  years  after  toe  commencement  of  his  public  labours  in 
America.  To  which  is  added  a  brief  Continuation,  to  the  closing  scene.  By  a 
Friend. 

To  Christian  Friends  this  Volume  makes  appeal  ; 

FRIENDS  are  indulgent.., .CHRISTIAN  FRIENDS  CAN  FEEL." 

In  conformity  to  the  act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  entitled  "  An 
Act  for  the  Encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the  Copies  of  Maps,  Charts, 
and  Books  to  the  Authors  and  Proprietors  of  such  Copies  during  the  times  therein 
mentioned."  And  also  to  the  Act,  entitled  "  An  Act  supplementary  to  an  Act, 
entitled  "  An  Act  for  the  Encouragement  of  Learning,  l>y  securing  the  Copies  of 
Maps,  Charts,  and  Books,  to  the  Authors  and  Proprietors  of  such  Copies  during 
the  time  therein  mentioned,"  and  extending  the  Benefits  thereof  to  the  Arts  of 
designing,  engraving,  and  etching  historical  and  other  Prints." 

WILLIAM  S.  SHAW, 

CLERK   OF   THE  DISTRICT   OF   MASSACHUSETTS 


PREFACE. 

JL  HE  pages,  which  compose  the  Volume  now 
presented  to  the  public,  were  originally  designed 
only  for  the  eye  of  a  tender  and  beloved  friend. 

They  were  written  at  the  earnest  request  of  one, 
to  whom  the  Author  was  endeared  by  many  years 
of  intimate  friendship,  and  still  more  by  those  di- 
vine and  soul-soothing  tenets,  of  which  it  was  his 
distinguished  lot  to  be  ORDAINED  the  Promulgator. 

For  those  who,  like  this  individual,  have  dwelt 
with  rapture  upon  the  blessed  assurance  of  the 
boundless  and  enduring  love  of  a  redeeming  God, 
as  powerfully  exhibited  by  those  lips  which  rarely 
opened  but  to  expatiate  upon  the  glad  tidings 
which  was  the  theme  of  the  angelic  song  : 
For  those,  who  loved  the  philanthropic,  the  in- 
spired Preacher,  for  the  sake  of  the  glorious  in- 
spiration ;  these  sheets  will  possess  the  strongest, 
and  most  important  interest  :  To  such,  and  to 
such  only,  they  are  addressed.  It  is  in  compliance 
with  their  solicitations  that  they  are  sent  into  the 
world,  and  it  is  not  even  expected  that  those  who 
turned  a  deaf  ear  to  his  consolatory  message,  and 
who  knew  not  the  powers  of  his  mighty  mind,  or 
the  pure,  and  exalted  benevolence  of  his  heart,  will 
have  any  interest  in  inquiring,  "  What  manner  of 
man  was  he  who  told  these  things.,  nor  what  spirit 
he  was  of  ?" 


BOSTON,  MAY*,  1816. 

M189264 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

An  account  of  the  Author's  birth  and  parentage,  with  succeed- 
ing events  until  the  decease  of  his  father  .  .  Page  4 

CHAPTElf  II. 
Record  continued  until  the  Author's  departure  from  Ireland  42 

CHAPTER  III. 

Arrival  in  England,  and  further  progress  of  the  INEXPERI- 
ENCED TRAVELLER 62 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Author  becomes  a  happy  husband,  a  happy  father.  He  em- 
braces the  "  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,"  and  from  this,  and  other 
combining  causes,  he  is  involved  in  great  difficulties.  Death 
deprives  him  of  his  wedded  friend,  and  Ids  infant  son,  and 
he  is  overtaken  by  a  series  of  calamities  ...  90 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  bereaved  man  quitting  his  native  shores,  embarks  for 
America,  indulging  the  fond  hope  of  sequestering  himself  in 
the  solitude  for  which  he  sighed.  But,  contrary  to  his  ex- 
pectations, a  series  of  circumstances  unite  to  produce  him  a 
Promulgator  of  the  gospel  of  God  our  Saviour  .  .  117 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Record  continued  from  the  September   of  1770,  to  the  winter 

o/1774 134 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Summary  Record  of  Events  from  January  1775,  to  October 
1809;  with  a  fac  simile  of  General  Washington's  hand 

writing 195 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Record  continued  from  October,  1809,  to  September,  1815,  in- 
cluding the  closing  scene  228 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Conclusion  233 


LIFE 


OF 


REV.  JOHN  MURRAY 


CHAPTER  I. 

Containing  an  Account  of  the  Authors  Birth  and  Parentage,  until  the 
Decease  of  his  Father. 

How  sweetly  roll'd  over  the  morning  of  life, 
How  free  from  vexation,  from  sorrow  and  strife  ; 
Kind  Nature  presented  rich  scenes  to  my  view, 
'     And  every  scene  she  presented  was  new. 

But  soon  was  the  morning  of  life  clouded  o'er, 
And  its  charming  serenity  lost ; 
Too  soon  was  I  forc'd  to  abandon  the  shore, 
And  on  ocean's  rude  billows  be  tost. 

"W/'OUR  earnest  solicitations,  my  inestimable,  my  best  friend,  have, 
with  me,  the  force  of  commands,  and  consequently  I  am  irresisti- 
bly impelled  to  retrace  for  your  gratification,  as  many  of  the  incidents 
of  early  life,  as  live  in  my  memory.  Assured  of  your  indulgence,  I 
unhesitatingly  commit  to  your  candour,  and  to  your  discretion,  the 
following  sheets. 

I  am  induced  to  regret,  that  my  anecdotes  of  this  charming  season 
are  not  more  multiplied.  Were  my  recollection  perfect,  my  enjoyments 
would  be  reiterated,  but  this  would  not  be  right,  therefore  it  is  not  so  ; 
every  season  has  its  enjoyments,  and  the  God  of  Nature  has  thought 
proper  to  keep  them  distinct,  and  appropriate. 

I  think,  if  I  mistake  not,  I  was  ushered  into  this  state  of  being  on  the 
10th  day  of  December,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1741,  four  years  before 
the  rebellion,  in  Scotland,  of  forty-five.  I  mention  this  circumstance, 
as  it  proved  to  me,  in  early  life,  a  source  of  some  vexation.  The  re- 
bellion terminated  in  the  destruction  of  many  of  the  Scotch  nobility  of 
my  name,  and  this  same  rebellion  was  long  the  subject  of  political  con- 


3    :  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

troversy,  which  generally  finished  in  the  execration  of  the  Scots,  and, 
on  account  of  my  name,  I  was  looked  upon  as  a  party  concerned. 

I  drew  my  first  breath  in  the  island  of  Great  Britain,  in  the  town 
of  Alton,  in  Hampshire.  This  town  boasts  a  Church,  a  Presbyterian 
and  a  Quaker  meeting-house  ;  a  celebrated  free  school,  an  extensive  and 
very  useful  manufacture,  and  it  is  environed  by  a  plantation  of  hops. 
Alton  is  seated  on  the  River  Wey,  18  miles  east-north-east  qf  South- 
Hampton,  and  48  miles  west-south-west  of  London. 

Being  the  first  born  of  my  parents,  it  is  not  wonderful  that  my  ap- 
pearance gave  much  joy,  nor  that  the  little  complaints,  incident  to  infan- 
cy, gave  great  apprehension.  It  was  in  consequence  of  some  little 
indisposition,  that  they  solicited  and  obtained  for  me  private  baptism. 
My  parents  were  both  sincerely  religious,  though  members  of  different 
sects.  My  father  was  an  Episcopalian,  my  mother  a  Presbyterian, 
yet  Religion  never  disturbed  the  harmony  of  the  family.  My  mother 
believed,  as  most  good  women  then  believed,  that  husbands  ought  to 
have  the  direction,  especially  in  concerns  of  such  vast  importance,  as  to 
involve  the  future  well  being  of  their  children,  and  of  course  it  was 
agreed,  that  I  should  receive  from  the  hands  of  an  Episcopalian  minister, 
the  rite  of  private  baptism  ;  and  as  this  ordinance,  in  this  private  manner, 
is  not  administered,  except  the  infant  is  supposed  in  danger  of  going  out 
of  the  world  in  an  unregenerate  state,  before  it  can  be  brought  to  the 
church,  I  take  for  granted  I  was,  by  my  apprehensive  parents,  believed 
in  imminent  danger  ;  yet,  through  succeeding  years,  I  seemed  almost 
exempt  from  the  casualties  of  childhood.  I  am  told  that  my  parents,  and 
grand  parents,  had  much  joy  in  me,  that  I  never  broke  their  rest  nor 
disturbed  their  repose  not  even  in  weaning,  that  I  was  a  healthy,  good- 
humoured  child,  of  a  ruddy  complexion,  and  that  the  equality  of  my 
disposition  became  proverbial.  I  found  the  use  of  my  feet  before  I  had 
completed  my  first  year,  but  the  gift  of  utterance  was  still  postponed. 
I  was  hardly  two  years  old,  when  I  had  a  sister  bom  ;  this  sister  was 
presented  at  the  baptismal  font,  and,  according  to  the  custom  in  our 
Church,  I  was  carried  to  be  received,  that  is,  all  who  are  privately  bap- 
tized, must,  if  they  live,  be  publicly  received  in  the  congregation.  The 
priest  took  me  in  his  arms,  and  having  prayed,  according  to  the  form 
made  use  of  on  such  occasions,  I  articulated,  with  an  audible  voice, 
AMEN.  The  congregation  were  astonished,  and  I  have  frequently  heard 
my  parents  say,  this  was  the  first  word  I  ever  uttered,  and  that  a  long 
time  elapsed,  before  I  could  distinctly  articulate  any  other.  Indulged, 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  7 

as  I  said,  by  bounteous  nature,  with  much  serenity  of  mind,  every  one 
was  happy  with  me.  I  was  fond  of  being  abroad,  and  a  servant  was 
generally  employed  to  gratify  me.  During-  these  repeated  rambles,  I 
experienced  some  "  hair  breadth  'scapes,"  which,  while  they  excited  the 
wonder  of  my  good  parents,  they  failed  not  to  record.  From  these 
frequent  promenades,  I  derived  that  vigorous  constitution,  or  at  least 
its  stability,  which  has  prolonged  my  abode  in  this  vale  of  tears,  through 
many  serious  disorders,  which  have  seemed  to  promise  my  emancipa- 
tion. I  do  not  remember  the  time  when  I  did  not  behold  the  works 
of  Nature  with  delight ;  such  as  the  drapery  of  the  heavens,  and  the 
flowers  of  the  garden,  and  of  the  fields  ;  and  I  perfectly  recollect,  before 
I  was  clothed  in  masculine  habiliments,  that  I  was  delightedly  occupied 
in  opening  the  ground,  throwing  it  into  some  form,  and  planting  in  reg- 
ular order,  little  sprigs  broken  from  the  gooseberry,  or  currant  bushes. 
My  pleasures  of  this  nature  were,  however,  soon  interrupted  by  going 
to  school  ;  this  was  my  first  affliction,  yet,  to  imperious  necessity,  the 
sweet  pliability  of  human  nature  soon  conformed  my  mind :  Nay,  it 
was  more  than  conformed ;  I  derived  even  felicity,  from  the  approbation 
of  my  school  dame,  from  the  pictures  in  my  books,  and  especially  from 
the  acquaintance  I  formed  with  my  school  mates. 

It  does  no  appear  to  me  that  I  was  what  the  wrorld  calls  naturally 
vicious.  I  was  neither  querulous,  nor  quarrelsome ;  I  cannot  trace  in 
my  mind  a  vestige  of  envy.  I  rejoiced  in  every  advantage  possessed 
by  my  little  comrades,  and  my  father  was  accustomed  to  exclaim, 
"  Never,  I  believe,  was  such  a  boy  ;  he  absolutely  delights  as  much  in 
the  new  garments  worn  by  the  children  of  our  neighbours,  as  in  his 
own  :"  and  indeed,  as  far  as  I  can  recollect  during  this  sweet  morning 
of  life,  my  most  complete  satisfaction  resulted  from  the  gratification  of 
others.  I  never  enjoyed  any  thing  alone,  my  earliest  pleasures  were 
social,  and  I  was  eager  to  reciprocate  every  good  office.  It  is  true 
I  encountered  difficulties,  from  the  various  dispositions  of  those  with 
whom  I  associated,  but,  in  my  infant  bosom,  rancour  or  implacability 
found  no  place.  Being  however  too  fond  of  play,  and  ambitious  of 
imitating  my  seniors,  I  had  little  time  for  reading  ;  yet  I  learned,  and 
at  six  years  old  could  read  a  chapter  in  the  Bible,  not  indeed  very  cor- 
rectly, but  I  rarely  paused  at  a  word;  however  difficult,  still  I  read  on. 
My  father  I  remember  used  sometimes  to  laugkout — a  levity  which, 
by  the  way,  he  seldom  indulged — but  he  did  sometimes  laugh  out,  and 
say,  "  This  boy  sticks  at  nothing,  he  has  a  most  astonishing  invention  : 


8  tlFK  0*  HEV.  JOHN  MURRAf, 

/ 

how  it  is  he  utters  such  sounds,  and  passes  on  with  such  rapidity,  I  can- 
not conceive:"  but  my  blunders  were  more  frequently  marked  by  a 
staggering  box  on  the  ear,  which  necessitated  me  to  stop,  when  I  was 
obliged  to  recommence,  and  go  over  the  whole  again.  This  conduct 
originated,  even  at  this  early  age,  more  fear  than  affection  for  my  fath- 
er. I  was  studious  to  avoid  his  presence,  and  I  richly  enjoyed  his  ab- 
sence. To  my  brothers  and  sisters,  wrho  were  multiplied  with  uncom- 
mon rapidity,  I  was  warmly  attached,  and  as  our  mother  contributed 
all  in  her  power  to  our  gratification,  our  pleasures  were  not  surpassed, 
by  those  of  any  little  group,  which  came  under  our  observation. 

My  parents  were  the  religious  children  of  religious  parents,  and 
grand  parents ;  they  were  the  more  religious  on  that  account ;  and,  as  the 
descendants  of  ancient  noble  families  value  themselves  on  their  pedi- 
gree, stimulating  their  children  from  considerations  of  ancestry  to  act 
up  to  the  illustrious  examples  which  they  exhibit  and  emblazon,  uni- 
formly insisting  that  they  shall  avoid  mixing  with  the  plebeian  race  ; 
so,  as  soon  as  I  appeared  to  pay  attention  to  interesting  tales,  I  was 
made  acquainted  with  the  characters  of  my  grand  parents. 

My  paternal  grandfather,  however,  possessed  only  negative  religion  ; 
that  is,  his  affection  for  my  grandmother  obliged  him  to  conform  to 
her,  in  every  thing  ;  and  he  esteemed  himself  happy,  in  being  blest  with 
a  wife,  who,  from  principle  and  inclination,  was  both  able  and  willing 
to  take  upon  herself  the  care,  and  culture  of  her  children.  How  long 
this  grandfather  lived,  I  am  unable  to  say,  but  my  grandmother  was, 
with  respect  to  her  religious  attachments,  more  fortunate  in  a  second 
marriage.  She  was  united  to  a  Mr.  Beattie,  a  man  of  considerable  note, 
in  every  point  of  view.  It  was  by  this  gentleman's  name,  I  became 
acquainted  with  my  grandmother  ;  I  remember,  when  very  young,  to 
have  seen  his  picture,  which  gave  me  a  very  high  idea  of  his  person. 
It  was  his  son,  who  was  governour  of  the  fortress,  in  the  harbour  of 
Cork.  My  grandmother  soon  lost  this  second  husband,  and  never 
married  again.  She  was,  in  the  morning  and  meridian  of  her  life,  a 
celebrated  beauty :  the  remains  of  a  fine  face  were  visible  when  I 
knew  her,  I  never  beheld  a  more  beautiful  old  lady.  Traces  of  afflu- 
ence were  conspicuous  in  her  dwelling,  her  furniture,  and  apparel ;  she 
was  an  immediate  descendant  of  an  ancient  and  honourable  family  in 
France  ;  her  father's  name  was  Barroux,  one  of  the  Noblesse,  and  a 
dweller  in  the  town  of  Paimboeuf,  on  the  river  Loire,  between  the 
city  of  Nantes,  and  the  mouth  of  said  river.  Mr.  Barroux  having 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  9 

buried  his  Lady,  who  left  him  two  daughters,  thought  proper,  as  was 
then  the  custom  of  people  of  distinction,  to  educate  his  eldest  daughter 
in  England  ;  this  step  banished  her  from  her  native  country,  and  from 
her  father  :  she  never  saw  either  more.  Attaching  herself  to  a  family  of 
Episcopalians,  she  became  a  zealous  Protestant,  which,  together  with 
her  selecting  a  husband  of  the  same  persuasion,  confirmed  her  an  Exile 
for  ever.  The  irritated  feelings  of  her  father  admitted  no  appeal,  his 
affections  were  totally  alienated,  he  was  a  high  spirited,  obstinate  man, 
and  he  swore  in  his  wrath,  he  would  wed  the  first  woman  he  met,  pro- 
vided he  could  obtain  her  consent,  and  she  were  not  absolutely  disgust- 
ing. The  first  who  presented  happened  to  be  his  chambermaid,  he 
made  known  to  her  his  vow,  was  accepted  with  gratitude,  and  they 
were  speedily  married.  Not  many  years  after  this  event,  the  old  gen- 
tleman died,  leaving  no  issue  by  his  second  marriage,  and,  as  he  left  no 
will,  his  daughter,  who  continued  under  the  paternal  roof,  entered  into 
possession  of  the  whole  estate ;  she,  however,  survived  her  father  only 
three  weeks,  when  my  grandmother  became  the  only  legal  heir  to  the 
property,  both  of  her  father,  and  her  sister. 

A  large  share  of  the  personal  estate  was  conveyed  to  England,  by 
two  priests  ;  and  the  real  estate  was  tendered  to  my  grandmother,  on 
condition  that  she  would  read  her  recantation,  renounce  the  damnable 
doctrines  of  the  Church  of  England,  and  receive  the  Host,  as  the  real 
presence.  My  grandmother,  and  my  father,  after  a  conference,  which 
continued  but  a  few  moments,  cheerfully  concurred  in  a  relinquishment 
of  the  estate,  and  united  in  declaring,  that,  on  terms  so  calculated  to 
prostrate  their  integrity,  they  would  not  accept  the  whole  kingdom  of 
France.  The  clergymen  returned  to  the  Gallic  shore,  and  the  person 
left  in  the  house,  for  the  purpose  of  taking  charge  of  the  estate,  until 
the  heirs  at  law  should  recover  their  senses,  continued  in  quiet  posses- 
sion of  an  inheritance,  worth  five  hundred  pounds  sterling  per  annum. 
When  the  estate  was  thus,  upon  religious  principles,  surrendered,  I  was 
about  five  years  of  age  ;  but  having  frequently  heard  my  father  circum- 
stantially relate  the  transaction,  as  I  advanced  in  life,  my  bosom  often 
acknowledged  a  latent  wish,  that  he  had  accepted  an  inheritance,  to 
which  his  natural  claim  was  indubitable,  upon  the  terms  offered  by  the 
ecclesiastics,  which  were,  that  my  grandmother,  and  my  father,  should, 
in  so  many  words,  qualify  themselves  for  the  possession  of  their  right, 
while,  in  their  hearts,  they  continued  to  judge  for  themselves.  But  from 
a  conduct  so  questionable,  the  guileless  heart  of  my  upright  parent 


10  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY, 

spontaneously  revolted ;  and,  for  myself,  while  revolving  years  gave  me 
to  exult  in  his  decision,  the  detection  of  so  reprehensible  a  principle,  in 
my  own  bosom,  and  at  so  early  a  period,  originated  much  contrition. 
Yet,  notwithstanding  the  very  considerable  sacrifice  made  by  my  father, 
his  uniform  efforts  commanded  all  the  necessaries,  and  many  of  the 
elegancies  of  life.  His  children  multiplied  ;  four  sons  and  five  daugh- 
ters augmented  his  felicities,  he  received  from  nature  a  strong  mind, 
his  parents  bestowed  upon  him  a  good  education,  and  he  was  univer- 
sally respected  and  beloved. 

The  parents  of  my  mother  were  well  known  to  me,  her  father's  name 
was  James  Rolt,  his  ancestors  were  all  English ;  he  was  in  early  life  a 
bon-vivant,  and  even  when  he  became  the  head  of  a  family,  his  repre- 
hensible pursuits  were  nothing  diminished  ;  the  silent  sufferings  of  his 
wedded  companion  were  strongly  expressed  in  her  wan  countenance, 
and  broken  health.  The  circumstances  of  his  conversion  from  dissipa- 
tion to  a  life  of  severe  piety  were  rather  remarkable  ;  and  were  consid- 
ered in  his  day  as  miraculous. 

Of  the  piety  of  my  paternal  grandfather,  or  my  maternal  grandmother, 
I  have  little  to  say.  I  have  never  heard  that  they  allowed  themselves 
in  any  improper  indulgencies,  and  as  they  were  the  admirers  of  their 
devout  companions,  it  is  a  fair  conclusion,  that  they  were  at  least  nega- 
tively pious,  and  that  if  they  did  not  lead,  they  cheerfully  followed,  in 
cultivating  a  pious  disposition  in  the  minds  of  their  children ;  and,  by 
consequence,  Religion  became  the  legitimate  inheritance  of  my  imme- 
diate parents.  The  conversion  of  my  paternal  grandmother,  from  the 
tenets  in  which  she  was  educated,  increased  her  zeal,  while  the  inheri- 
tance, sacrificed  from  conscientious  principles,  gave  her  to  consider  her- 
self more  especially  heir  of  an  inheritance  incorruptible,  undefiled,  and 
that  fadeth  not  away  ;  and  conscious  that  she  had  fully  concurred  with 
my  father,  in  depriving  their  children  of  a  temporal  treasure,  they  were 
sedulously  anxious  to  inculcate  a  persuasion  of  the  necessity  of  securing 
another. 

It  is  wonderful,  that  while  it  was  the  great  business,  both  of  my  father 
and  my  mother,  to  render  their  children  feelingly  solicitous  to  secure  an 
interest  in  the  Redeemer,  that  they  might  thus  be  entitled  to  a  blessed 
and  happy  futurity,  they  were  both  of  them  very  rigid  Calvini^s. 

The  doctrines,  taught  by  that  gloomy  Reformer,  they  undeviatingly 
taught  in  their  family  :  and  hence  my  soul  frequently  experienced  the 
extreme  of  agony.  Naturally  vivacious,  to  implant  religion  among  my 


LIFE  OF  KEY.  JOHN  MURRAY.  11 

juvenile  pleasures  required  the  most  vigorous  and  uniform  effort.  Reli- 
gion was  not  a  native  of  the  soil,  it  was  an  exotic,  which,  when  planted, 
could  only  be  kept  alive  by  the  most  persevering  attention.  Hence 
Religion  became  a  subject  of  terror.  I  was  not  ten  years  old  when  I 
began  to  suffer  ;  the  discovery  of  my  sufferings  gave  my  fond  father 
much  pleasure,  he  cherished  hope  of  me  when  he  found  me  suffering 
from  my  fears,  and  much  indeed  was  I  tortured  by  the  severe,  unbend- 
ing discipline  of  my  father,  and  the  terrifying  apprehensions  of  what 
I  had  to  expect  from  the  God  who  created  me.  The  second  son  of 
my  parents  was  naturally  of  a  pensive,  gloomy  disposition.  He  was 
more  piously  disposed,  and  less  fond  of  amusement  than  myself,  and 
hearing  much  of  Cain  as  the  eldest  son  of  Adam,  of  Esau  as  the  eldest 
son  of  Isaac,  and  of  Abel,  and  Jacob,  as  the  younger  sons,  my  soul  was 
frequently  filled  with  terror,  verily  believing  my  brother  was  the  elected, 
and  myself  the  rejected  of  God.  This  appalling  consideration,  even 
at  this  early  period,  frequently  devoted  my  days  and  nights  to  tears  and 
lamentation.  But  stability  dwelt  not  with  me,  and  the  pleasing  expect- 
ations of  my  father  were  often  blasted  ;  my  attachment  to  my  play- 
mates, and  their  childish  gambols,  revived,  and  when  engaged  in  appro- 
priate amusements,  I  often  forgot  the  immediate  terror  of  the  rod,  and 
of  future  misery  ;  both  of  which,  as  often  as  I  reflected,  I  painfully 
believed  I  should  endure.  My  father  took  every  method  to  confine 
me  within  his  walls  ;  it  was  with  difficulty  he  prevailed  upon  himself 
to  permit  my  attendance  at  school,  yet  this  was  necessary,  and  to 
school  I  must  go;  while  that  rigid  and  extreme  vigilance,  which  was  ever 
upon  the  alert,  produced  effects  diametrically  opposite  to  the  end  pro- 
posed. My  appetite  for  pleasure  increased,  and  I  occasionally  prefer- 
red the  truant  frolic,  to  the  stated  seasons  of  study,  yea  though  I  was ' 
certain  severe  castigation  would  be  the  consequence.  Pious  supplica- 
tions were  the  accompaniments  of  the  chastisements  which  were  inflict- 
ed, so  that  I  often  passed  from  the  terror  of  the  rod,  to  the  terrify ingi 
apprehensions  of  future  and  never-ending  misery.  Upon  these  terrific! 
occasions,  the  most  solemn  resolutions  were  formed,  and  my  vows  were 
marked  by  floods  of  tears.  I  would  no  more  offend  either  my  father, 
or  his  God  ;  I  dared  not  to  say  my  God,  for  I  had  heard  my  father 
declare,  that  for  any  individual,  not  the  elect  of  God,  to  say  o/God,  or 
to  God,  "  OUR  FATHER,"  was  nothing  better  than  blasphemy  ;  when 
most  devout,  I  was  prevented  from  deriving  consolation  from  my  pious 
breathings,  by  a  persuasion  that  I  was  a  reprobate,  predestined  to  eter-  : 


12  LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

nal  perdition.  In  fact,  I  believed  that  I  had  nothing  to  hope,  but  every 
thing  to  fear,  both  from  my  Creator,  and  my  father  :  and  these  soul- 
appalling  considerations,  by  enforcing  a  conclusion,  that  I  was  but  mak- 
ing provision  for  alternate  torture,  threw  a  cloud  over  every  innocent 
enjoyment. 

About  the  time  that  I  attained  my  eleventh  year,  my  father  remov- 
ed to  Ireland,  and  though  I  dreaded  going  with  him  any  where,  I  was 
the  only  individual  of  the  family  whom  he  compelled  to  accompany 
him.  Yet  I  was  captivated  by  the  charms  of  novelty.  London  filled 
me  with  amazement,  and  my  fond,  my  apprehensive  father,  was  in 
continual  dread  of  losing  me  ;  while  the  severity  he  practised  to  detain 
me  near  him,  by  invigorating  my  desires  to  escape  from  his  presence, 
increased  the  evil. 

We  quitted  London  in  the  middle  of  April,  and  reaching  Bristol, 
tarried  but  a  little  while  in  that  city.  At  Pill,  five  miles  from  Bristol, 
between  my  father  and  myself,  a  final  separation  was  on  the  point  of 
taking  place.  In  the  Bristol  river  the  tide  is  extremely  rapid,  I  step- 
ped into  a  boat  on  the  slip,  and  letting  it  loose,  the  force  of  the  current 
almost  instantly  carried  it  off  into  the  channel,  and  had  it  been  ebb  in- 
stead of  flood  tide,  I  must  inevitably  have  gone  out  to  sea,  and  most 
probably  should  never  have  been  heard  of  more  :  but  the  flood  tide 
carried  me  with  great  rapidity  up  the  river,  and  the  only  fear  I  experi- 
enced was  from  the  effects  of  my  father's  indignation.  The  poor  gen- 
tleman, with  a  number  of  compassionate  individuals,  were  engaged, 
until  almost  twelve  o'clock,  in  searching  the  town,  and  the  harbour, 
and  had  returned  home  relinquishing  every  hope  of  my  restoration. 
In  the  midst  of  the  stream  I  found  a  large  flat-bottomed  boat  at  anchor, 
to  which,  making  fast  the  boat  I  was  in,  I  consequently  proceeded  no 
farther.  At  midnight,  I  heard  voices  on  the  side  of  the  river,  when 
earnestly  imploring  their  aid,  and  offering  a  liberal  reward,  they  came 
in  their  boat,  and  conveying  me  on  shore,  conducted  me  to  my  lodg- 
ings ;  but  no  language  can  describe  my  dismay,  as  I  drew  near  my 
father,  who  was  immediately  preparing  to  administer  the  deserved 
chastisement,  when  the  benevolent  hostess  interposed,  and  in  pity- 
moving  accents  exclaimed  :  "  Oh,  for  God's  sake,  let  the  poor  Blood 
alone  ;  I  warrant  me  has  suffered  enough  already."  My  father  was 
softened,  perhaps  he  was  not  displeased  to  find  a  pretence  for  mildness  ; 
he  gave  me  no  correction  for  this  offence  ;  he  even  treated  me  with 
unusual  kindness.  We  were  detained  in  Pill  three  week^,  wishing  for 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  13 

a  favourable  wind,  three  weeks  more  at  Minehead,  and  three  weeks  at 
Milford  Haven.  Thus  we  were  nine  weeks  in  performing  a  passage, 
which  is  commonly  made  in  forty-eight  hours,  and  instead  of  my  fa- 
ther's reaching  Cork  before  the  residue  of  his  family,  they  were  there 
almost  at  the  moment  of  our  arrival.  In  Cork  we  were  at  home  ;  there 
dwelt  the  respected  mother  of  my  father,  and  in  easy  circumstances  ; 
many  changes,  however,  had  taken  place  in  her  family,  although  the 
remains  of  affluence  were  still  visible.  My  father  fixed  his  residence 
in  the  vicinity  of  this  city,  and  a  most  pleasing  residence  it  proved. 

About  this  time  the  Methodists  made  their  appearance,  and  my  father 
was  among  the  first  who  espoused  their  cause.  His  zeal  for  vital  re- 
ligion could  hardly  be  surpassed,  and  it  appeared  to  him  that  this  in- 
iiate,  and  holy  operation,  rejected  by  every  other  sect,  had  found  refuge 
in  the  bosoms  of  these  exemplary  people.  But  though  my  father  es- 
poused the  cause,  he  did  not  immediately  become  a  Methodist  :  the 
Methodists  were  not  Calvinists.  Yet,  if  possible,  he  doubled  his  dili- 
gence, he  kept  his  family  more  strict  than  ever  ;  he  was  distinguished  by 
the  name  of  saint,  and  became  the  only  person  in  his  vicinity,  whom 
the  Methodists  acknowledged  as  truly  pious.  With  the  religion  of 
the  Methodists  I  was  greatly  enamoured  ;  they  preached  often,  and  in  the 
streets  ;  they  had  private  societies  of  young  people,  and  sweet  singing, 
and  a  vast  deal  of  it,  and  an  amazing  variety  of  times, — and  all  this  was 
beyond  expression  charming.  At  this  period  the  health  of  my  father 
began  to  decline.  Physicians  concurred  in  opinion,  that  his  complaints 
indicated  a  pulmonary  affection.  Again  his  efforts  were  renewed  and 
invigorated,  and,  poor  gentleman,  his  labours  were  abundantly  multipli- 
ed. The  ardent  desire  of  his  soul  was  to  render  every  individual  of  his 
family  actively  religious,  and  religious  in  his  own  way  ;  but  as  his  chil- 
dren necessarily  mingled  more  or  less  with  the  children  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, they  caught  words  and  habits  which  he  disliked,  and  applica- 
tion was  made  to  the  rod,  as  a  sovereign  panacea. 

In  the  course  of  my  twelfth  year,  my  father  was  overtaken  by  a 
very  heavy  calamity  ;  his  house,  his  houses,  and  indeed  almost  every 
thing  he  possessed,  were  laid  in  ashes.  He  had  only  a  moment  to 
snatch  to  his  bosom  a  sleeping  infant  from  its  cradle,  when  a  part  of 
the  house  fell  in  ;  an  instant  longer  and  they  would  both  have  been 
wrapped  in  the  surrounding  flames,  and  a  deep  sense  of  this  preserving 
mercy  accompanied  him  to  his  grave.  Thus  every  event  of  his  life 
seemed  to  combine  to  render  his  devotions  more  and  more  fervent.  I< 


14  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

was  happy  for  us  that  my  respectable  grandmother  still  lived,   whose 
extricating  hand  was  an  ever  ready  resource. 

It  was  my  father's  constant  practice,  so  long  as  his  health  would  per- 
mit, to  quit  his  bed,  winter  as  well  as  summer,  at  four  o'clock  in  the 
morning  ;  a  large  portion  of  this  time,  thus  redeemed   from   sleep,  was 
devoted  to  private  prayers,  and  meditations.     At  six  o'clock  the  family 
were  summoned,  and  I,  as  the  eldest  son,  was  ordered   into  my  closet, 
for  the  purpose  of  private  devotion.     My  father,  however,  did   not  <ro 
with  me,  and  I  did  not  always  pray  ;   I  was  not  always  in   a    praying- 
frame  ;  but  the  deceit,  which  I  was  thus  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  prac- 
tising, was  an  additional  torture  to  my  labouring  mind.     After  the 
family  were  collected,  it  was  my  part  to   read  a  chapter  in   the  bible  ; 
then  followed  a  long  and  fervent  prayer  by  my  father  ;  breakfast  succeed- 
ed, when  the  children  being  sent  to  school,  the  business  of  the  day  com- 
menced.    In  the  course  of  the  day,  my  father,  as  I  believe,  never  omit- 
ted his  private  devotions,  and,  in  the  evening,  the  whole  family    were 
again  collected,  the  children  examined,  our  faults  recorded,  and   I,  as 
an  example  to  the  rest,  especially  chastised.     My  father  rarely   passed 
by  an  offence,  without  marking  it  by  such  punishment  as  his  sense  of 
duty  awarded ;  and  when  my  tearful  mother  interceded  for  me,    he 
would  respond  to  her  entreaties  in  the  language  of  Solomon,  "  if  thou 
beat  him  with  a  rod,  he  shall  not  die  ;"  the  bible  was  again  introduced, 
and  the  day  was  closed  by  prayer.     Sunday  was  a  day  much  to   be 
dreaded  in   our  family  ;  we  were  all  awakened  at  early  dawn,  private 
devotions  attended,  breakfast  hastily  dismissed,  shutters  closed,  ,no  light 
but  from  the  back  part  of  the  house,   no  noise   could   bring  any  part  of 
the  family  to  the  window,  not  a  syllable  was  uttered  upon  secular  affairs  ; 
every  one  who  could  read,  children  and  domestics,  had  their  allotted 
chapters.     Family  prayer  succeeded,  after  which,  Baxter's  Saint's  Ever- 
lasting Rest  was  assigned  to  me,  my  mother  all  the  time  in  terror  lest 
the  children  should  be  an  interruption.     At  last  the  bell  summoned  us 
to  Church,  whither  in  solemn  order  we  proceeded  :  I  close  to  my  fath- 
er, who  admonished  me  to  look  strait  forward,   and  not  let  my  eyes 
wander  after  vanity.      At  Church,  I  was  fixed  at  his  elbow,  compelled 
to  kneel  when  he  kneeled,  stand  when  he  stood,  to  find  the  Psalm, 
Epistle,  Gospel,  and  collects  for  the  day,  and  any  instance  of  inatten- 
tion was  vigilantly  marked,  and  unrelentingly    punished.     When  I  re- 
turned from  Church,  I  was  ordered  to  my  closet ;  and  when  I  came 
forth,  the  chapter,  from  which  the  preacher  had  taken  his  text,  was 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 


read,  and  I  was  then  questioned  respecting  the  sermon,  a  part  of  which 
I  could  generally  repeat.  Dinner,  as  breakfast,  was  taken  in  silent 
haste,  after  which  we  were  not  suffered  to  walk,  even  in  the  garden, 
but  every  one  must  either  read,  or  hear  reading,  until  the  bell  ga,ve  the 
signal  for  afternoon  service,  from  which  we  returned  to  private  devo- 
tion, to  reading,  to  catechising,  to  examination,  and  long  family  prayer, 
which  closed  the  most  laborious  day  of  the  week.  It  was  the  custom 
for  many  of  our  visiting  friends  to  unite  with  us  in  these  evening  ex- 
ercises, to  the  no  small  gratification  of  my  father  ;  it  is  true,  especially 
after  he  became  an  invalid,  he  was  often  extremely  fatigued,  but,  upon 
these  occasions,  the  more  he  suffered,  the  more  he  rejoiced,  since  his 
reward  would  be  the  greater,  and  indeed  his  sufferings,  of  every  des- 
cription, were  to  him  a  never-failing  source  of  consolation.  In  fact;  this 
devotional  life  became  to  him  second  nature,  but  it  was  not  so  to  his 
family.  For  myself,  I  was  alternately  serious,  and  wild,  but  never 
very  moderate  in  any  thing.  My  father  rejoiced  in  my  devotional 
frames,  and  was  encouraged  to  proceed,  as  occasion  was  given,  in  the 
good  work  of  whipping,  admonishing,  and  praying.  I  continued  to 
repeat  my  pious  resolutions,  and,  still  more  to  bind  my  soul,  I  once 
vowed  a  vow  unto  the  Lord,  —  kissing  the  book  for  the  purpose  of  ad- 
ding to  its  solemnity,  —  that  I  would  no  more  visit  the  pleasure  grounds, 
nor  again  associate  with  those  boys,  who  had  been  my  companions. 
Almost  immediately  after  this  transaction  I  attended  a  thundering 
preacher,  who,  taking  for  his  text  that  command  of  our  Saviour,  which 
directs  his  disciples  to  "  swear  not  at  all"  gave  me  to  believe  I  had 
committed  a  most  heinous  transgression,  in  the  oath  that  I  had  taken  ; 
nay,  he  went  so  far  as  to  assure  his  hearers,  that  to  say,  "  upon  my 
word"  was  an  oath,  a  wry  horrid  oath,  since  it  was  tantamount  to 
swearing  by  Jesus  Christ,  inasmuch  as  he  was  the  word,  who  was  made 
flesh  for  us,  and  dwelt  among  us.  This  sermon  rendered  me  for  a 
long  season  truly  wretched,  while  I  had  no  individual  to  whom  I  could 
confide  my  distresses.  To  my  father  I  dared  not  even  name  my  se- 
cret afflictions,  and  my  mother,  as  far  as  the  tenderness  of  her  nature 
would  permit,  was  in  strict  unison  with  her  venerated  husband.  The 
depression  of  my  spirits  upon  this  occasion  was  great,  and  enduring  ; 
but  for  revolving  months  I  continued  what  they  called  a  good  boy,  I 
was  attentive  to  my  book,  carefully  following  the  directions  which  were 
given  me,  and,  on  my  return  from  school,  instead  of  squandering  the 
hours  of  intermission  with  idle  associates,  I  immediately  retired  to  the 


16  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

garden,  which  constituted  one  of  the  first  pleasures  of  my  life  ;  in  fact, 
the  cultivation  of  fruits,  and  flowers,  has,  in  every  period  of  my  exis- 
tence, continued  to  me  a  prime  source  of  enjoyment.  My  paternal 
grandmother  was  the  Lady  Bountiful  of  the  parish  ;  having  made  it  her 
study,  she  became  an  adept  in  the  distillation  of  simples,  she  had  a  very 
large  garden  adjoining  to  my  father's,  and  she  cultivated  an  amazing 
variety  of  plants.  As  I  was  her  favourite  assistant,  she  gradually  ob- 
tained my  father's  permission,  that  I  should  appropriate  to  her  a  large 
part  of  my  time,  and  the  hours  which  I  consequently  devoted  to  this 
venerable  lady,  in  her  garden,  and  in  her  habitation,  were  to  me  hal- 
cyon hours.  It  was  my  study  to  enrich  her  grounds  with  every  choice 
herb,  or  flower,  which  met  my  gaze,  and  I  was  ever  on  the  alert  to 
collect  plants  of  the  most  rare  description.  This  was  confessedly  an 
innocent  amusement ;  it  would  bear  reflection,  and  was  therefore  de- 
lightful. Alas  !  alas  !  it  was  too  replete  with  felicity  to  be  continued. 
I  was  soon  compelled  to  relinquish  my  pleasant  occupation.  My  father 
found  it  necessary  to  remove  from  the  neighbourhood  of  his  mother, 
and  her  garden  no  more  bloomed  for  me. 

We  were  speedily  established  in  the  vicinity  of  a  nobleman's  seat,  in 
which  was  instituted  an  academy  of  high  reputation.  It  was  under  the 
direction  of  an  Episcopalian  clergyman^  who,  being  well  acquainted 
with,  and  much  attached,  to  my  father,  had  frequent  opportunities  of 
hearing  me  recite  many  chapters  from  the  bible,  which  I  had  committed 
to  memory,  and  becoming  fond  of  me,  he  earnestly  importuned  my 
father  to  surrender  me  up  to  his  care.  "  He  shall  live  in  my  family," 
said  he  ;  "  he  shall  be  unto  me  as  a  son,  I  will  instruct  him,  and  when 
opportunity  offers,  he  shall  become  a  member  of  the  University  :  he  has 
a  prodigious  memory,  his  understanding  needs  only  to  be  opened,  when 
he  will  make  the  most  rapid  progress."  But  my  father,  trembling  for 
my  spiritual  interest,  if  removed  from  his  guardian  care,  returned  to 
this  liberal  proposal  the  most  unqualified  negative,  and  my  writing- 
master  immediately  sought,  and  obtained  the  situation  for  his  son, 
who  was  about  my  age.  In  this  academy  many  noblemen's  sons  were 
qualified  for  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  and  in  a  few  years  one  of  those 
ennobled  students,  selected  my  fortunate  schoolmate  as  a  companion  ; 
he  passed  through  Trinity  College,  and  received  its  honours,  from 
which  period  I  never  again  beheld  him,  until  I  saw  him  in  a  pulpit  in 
the  city  of  London. 

Though  my  social  propensities,  at  every  period  of  my  life  greatly 
predominated,  yet  the  close  attention  paid  me  by  my  father,  greatly 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  17 

abridged  every  enjoyment  of  this  description.  Yet  I  did  form  one 
dear  connexion,  with  whom  I  held  sweet  converse.  But  of  the  society 
of  this  clear  youth  I  was  soon  deprived.  Recalled  by  his  family,  he 
was  to  leave  town  upon  a  Sunday  morning,  and  instead  of  going  to 
Church,  I  took  my  way  to  his  lodgings,  for  the  purpose  of  bidding  him 
a  last  farewell.  The  ill  health  of  my  father  prevented  him  from  attend- 
ing Church  on  that  day,  but  tidings  of  my  delinquency  were  conveyed 
to  him  by  a  gentleman  of  his  acquaintance,  and  my  punishment,  as  I 
then  believed,  was  more  than  proportioned  to  my  fault.  Still,  however, 
I  had  sufficient  hardihood  to  run  great  hazards.  A  review  of  several 
regiments  of  soldiers  was  announced  ;  I  could  not  obtain  leave  to  be 
present,  yet,  for  the  purpose  of  witnessing  a  sight  so  novel,  I  was  deter- 
mined to  take  the  day  to  myself ;  I  suffered  much  through  the  day 
from  hunger,  and  I  anticipated  my  reception  at  home.  In  the  evening, 
I  stopped  at  a  little  hut,  where  the  homely  supper  smoked  upon  the  frugal 
board  ;  the  cottagers  had  the  goodness  to  press  me  to  partake  with  them ; 
my  heart  blessed  them  ;  I  should,  like  Esau,  have  given  my  birthright, 
had  it  been  mine  to  bestow,  for  this  entertainment ;  but,  blessings  on 
the  hospitable  inhabitants  of  this  island,  they  make  no  demands  either 
upon  friend,  or  stranger  ;  every  individual  is  welcome  to  whatever  suste- 
nance either  their  houses,  or  their  huts,  afford.  I  sat  down,  and  I  eat 
the  sweetest  meal  I  ever  eat  in  my  life,  the  pleasure  of  which  I  have 
never  yet  forgotten,  although  the  paternal  chastisement,  which  fallowed, 
was  uncommonly  severe. 

The  time  now  approached  when  it  was  judged  necessary  I  should 
engage  in  some  business,  by  which  I  might  secure  the  necessaries  of 
life.  The  conscience  of  my  father  had  deprived  me  of  an  estate,  and 
of  a  collegiate  education,  and  it  was  incumbent  upon  him  to  make 
some  provision  for  me.  But  what  was  to  be  done  ?  If  he  sent  me 
abroad,  I  should  most  unquestionably  contract  bad  habits.  Well  then, 
he  would  bring  me  up  himself ;  but  this  was  very  difficult.  He  had  for 
some  time  thrown  up  business,  and  new  expenses  must  be  incurred. 
Finally,  however,  I  commenced  my  new  career,  and  under  the  eye  of 
my  pains-taking  father.  I  did  not  however  like  it ;  yet  I  went  on  well, 
and,  dividing  my  attention  between  my  occupation  and  my  garden,  I 
had  little  leisure.  It  was  at  this  period  I  began  once  more  to  experi- 
ence the  powerful  operation  of  religion,  and  secret  devotion  became  my 
choice.  Perhaps  no  one  of  my  age  ever  more  potently  felt  the  joys, 
and  sorrows  of  Religion.  The  Met^pdists  had  followed  us  to  our  new 


18  I^IFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

situation,  and  they  made  much  noise  ;  they  courted,  and  obtained  the 
attention  of  my  father,  and  he  now  joined  their  society.  They  urged 
him  to  become  a  preacher,  but  his  great  humility,  and  his  disbelief  of 
Arminianism  were  insuperable  bars.  He  was  nevertheless  a  powerful 
assistant  to  the  Methodists.  Mr.  John  Wesley  was  a  great  admirer 
of  my  father,  and  he  distinguished  him  beyond  any  individual  in  the 
society  ;  perseveringly  urging  him  to  become  the  leader  of  a  class,  and 
to  meet  the  society  in  the  absence  of  their  preachers  :  to  all  which  my 
father  consented.  I  think  I  have  before  observed,  that  I  was  devoted 
to  the  Methodists,  and  for  the  very  reason  that  rendered  my  father  ap- 
prehensive of  them, — they  were  very  social.  The  Methodists  in  this, 
as  in  every  other  place,  where  they  sojourned,  by  degrees  established  a 
permanent  residence.  They  first  preached  in  the  streets,  practised 
much  self-denial,  and  mortification,  inveighed  against  the  standing  reli- 
gion of  the  country,  as  impious  and  hypocritical,  declaring  the  new 
birth  only  to  be  found  among  them.  To  this  general  rule,  they,  how- 
ever, allowed  my  father  to  be  an  exception  ;  and  his  open  espousal  of 
their  cause  contributed  greatly  to  building  them  up.  They  gained 
many  proselytes,  it  became  the  fashion  for  multitudes  to  become  reli- 
gious ;  and  it  is  in  religion  as  in  every  thing  else,  where  once  it  is  fol- 
lowed by  a  multitude,  multitudes  will  follow.  The  very  children  be- 
came religious.  A  meeting-house  was  speedily  obtained,  a  society  was 
formed,  and  classes  of  every  description  regularly  arranged.  There 
was  one  class  of  boys  ;  it  consisted  of  forty,  and  Mr.  John  Wesley  ap- 
pointed me  their  leader.  Twice  in  the  course  of  every  week  this  class 
met  in  a  private  apartment.  The  business  of  the  leader  was  to  see  that 
the  members  were  all  present ;  for  this  purpose  he  was  furnished  with  a 
list  of  their  names,  and  when  they  were  all  assembled,  the  leader  began 
by  singing  a  hymn.  I  was  once  pronounced  a  good  singer,  and  al- 
though I  never  had  patience  to  learn  music  by  note,  I  readily  caught 
every  tune  I  heard,  and  my  notes  were  seldom  false.  I  repeat,  that  1 
was  delighted  with  the  music  introduced  by  the  Methodists.  I  collected 
their  most  enchanting  tunes,  and  singing  them  frequently  in  my  class,  I 
obtained  much  applause.  Prayer  succeeded  the  hymn  ;  I  was  accus- 
tomed to  extemporary  prayer,  I  had  usually  prayed  in  sincerity,  and 
my  devotion  upon  these  occasions  was  glowing,  and  unfeigned.  Exam- 
ination followed  the  prayer  :  I  examined  every  individual  separately, 
respecting  the  work  of  God  upon  his  heart,  and  both  the  questions,  and 
responses,  evinced  great  simplicity,  and  pious  sincerity.  A  word  of 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  19 

general  advice  next  ensued,  a  second  hymn  was  sung,  and  the  whole 
concluded  with  prayer.  This  was  a  most  delightful  season,  both  for  my 
parents,  and  myself.  I  became  the  object  of  general  attention,  my  so- 
ciety was  sought  by  the  grey-headed  man,  and  the  child.  My  experi- 
ence was  various,  and  great ;  in  fact,  I  had  experienced  more  of  what  is 
denominated  the  work  of  God  upon  the  heart,  than  many,  I  had  almost 
.said  than  any,  of  my  seniors,  my  parents  excepted.  Devout  persons 
pronounced  that  I  was,  by  divine  favour,  destined  to  become  a  burning, 
and  a  shining  light  ;  and  from  these  flattering  appearances  my  father 
drew  much  consolation.  I  was  frequently  addressed,  in  his  presence,  as 
the  child  of  much  watching,  and  earnest  prayer  ;  this,  to  my  proudly- 
pious  parent  was  not  a  little  flattering  ;  it  was  then  that  I  derived  incal- 
culable satisfaction,  from  these  very  legible  marks  of  election  :  And 
though  the  Methodists  insisted,  that  the  doctrine  of  election,  before  repen- 
tance and  faith,  was  a  damnable  doctrine ;  yet  they  admitted,  that,  after 
the  manifestation  of  extraordinary  evidences,  the  individual,  so  favoured, 
was  unquestion-  bly  elected.  Thus  by  the  concurrent  testimonies  of  ( 
Calvinists,  and  Arminians,  I  was  taught  to  consider  myself  as  distin- 
guished, and  chosen  of  Cod ;  as  certainly  born  again.  Yet,  as  it  was 
next  to  impossible  to  ascertain  the  moment  of  my  new  birth,  I  be- 
came seriously  unhappy,  but  from  this  unhappiness  I  was  rescued,  by 
reading  accounts  of  holy  and  good  men  in  similar  circumstances  ;  I 
now  therefore  lived  a  heaven  upon  earth,  beloved,  caressed,  and  admired. 
No  longer  shut  up  under  my  father's  watchful  care,  I  was  allowed  to  go 
out  every  morning  at  five  o'clock  to  the  house  of  public  worship  ;  there 
I  hymned  the  praises  of  my  God,  and  united  in  fervent  prayer  with 
the  children  of  the  faithful ;  meeting  several  of  my  young  admiring 
friends,  we  exchanged  experiences,  we  mingled  our  joys  and  our  sor-  , 
rows,  and,  by  this  friendly  intercourse,  the  first  was  increased,  and  the 
second  diminished.  In  all  our  little  meetings  we  were  continually  com- 
plaining to,  and  soothing  each  other,  and  these  employments  were  truly 
delightful.  The  mind  cannot  be  intently  occupied  on  contrary  mat- 
ters at  the  same  time,  and  my  mind  being  filled  with  devotion,  my 
waking  and  my  sleeping  moments  were  invariably  engaged  in  religious 
pursuits  ;  it  was  in  truth  my  meat,  and  my  drink,  to  do  what  I  believed 
the  will  of  my  heavenly  Father.  At  this  period,  I  should  have  been 
wrecked  upon  the  sand-built  foundation  of  self-righteousness,  as  many 
of  my  young  friends  were,  had  it  not  been  for  the  unbroken  vigilance 
of  an  experienced  .»nd  tender  father.  He  saw  the  danger  of  too  great 


20  tlFE    OF    REV.  JOHN    MURRAY. 


elation,  and  he  laboured  to  keep  me  humble  in  my  own  estimation. 
"  You  now,  my  dear,"  said  he,  "  think  you  know  every  thing  ;  but 
when  you  really  attain  superior  information,  you  will  be  convinced  you 
know  nothing."  This  assertion  appeared  to  me  extremely  paradoxi- 
cal ;  but  I  have  since  learned  to  appreciate  its  rationality  and  its  truth. 
I  know  not  how  long  I  proceeded  in  this  delightful  path  ;  nothing  from 
within,  or  without,  interrupted  my  course,  and  I  well  remember,  that  I 
fancied  myself  on  the  verge  of  perfection.  I  saw,  or  imagined  I  saw, 
undeviating  rectitude  within  my  grasp.  I  was  conscious  of  no  wishes, 
but  those  which  I  considered  the  legitimate  offspring  of  the  religion  I 
professed.  I  wondered  what  had  become  of  my  evil  propensities  ; 
they  were  however  gone,  and,  I  believed,  they  would  no  more  return  : 
my  days,  my  weeks  rolled  on,  uniformly  devoted  to  pursuits,  which 
created  for  me  unutterable  self-complacency.  On  Sunday  morning  I 
arose  with  the  sun,  and  like  our  first  parent  in  a  state  of  innocence, 

"  Straight  towards  heaven  my  wondering  eyes  I  turned, 
And  gazed  awhile  the  ample  sky." 

Thus  after  a  night  of  charmingly  refreshing,  and  undisturbed  repose. 
with  spirits  innocently  gay,  I  arose,  washed  my  face,  and  hands,  repeat- 
ing a  short  supplication,  which  my  father  never,  oh  those  occasions, 
omitted  :  "  O,  Almighty  God,  who  hath  ordained  this  watery  element 
for  the  use,  and  support  of  nature,  by  which  I  am  at  this  time  refreshed, 
and  cleansed,  O  !  purify  my  soul,  by  the  operation  of  thy  blessed 
spirit,  as  a  well  of  water  springing  up  unto  everlasting  life."  I  then  re- 
tired to  my  closet,  offering  the  orisons  of  my  gladdened  heart,  -and 
habited  for  church.  I  sat  down  to  my  book,  until  my  father  made  his 
appearance,  when  the  family  being  summoned,  and  the  morning  prayer 
ended,  we  breakfasted,  but  it  was  a  light  repast,  and  soon  dispatched. 
At  eight  o'clock,  I  attended  the  Methodist  meeting  ;  at  half  past  nine, 
I  returned  home,  and  devoted  the  time  to  reading,  until  after  ten,  when 
the  bell  summoned  me  to  church,  where  the  Methodists  at  that  time 
attended  ;  at  church  I  was  remarked  for  my  devotion.  From  the  church 
I  returned  to  my  closet,  after  which  I  read  the  Bible,  responding  to  the 
interrogations  of  my  father,  relative  to  the  sermon,  by  repeating  it  near- 
ly verbatim.  Dinner  over,  I  again  retied  to  my  closet;  from  which, 
by  my  father's  desire,  I  made  my  appearance,  to  read  for  him  some 
devotional  book,  until  the  bell  again  commanded  my  attendance  upon 
public  worship  ;  but,  to  my  great  consolation,  I  had  not,  when  I  re- 
turned home,  as  on  the  Sunday  sketched  in  a  former  page,  to  spend 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  2i 

the  residue  of  the  day  in  saddening  glooms  ;  at  five  o'clock,  the  Metho- 
dist meeting  again  opened,  to  which  the  multitude  flocked  ;  there  I 
saw,  and  there,  with  affectionate  admiration,  I  was  seen  ;  there,  when 
the  terrors  of  the  law  were  exhibited,  I  was  delighted  by  the  assurance 
of  eternal  security  therefrom  ;  and  there,  when  the  children  of  the  Re- 
deemer were  addressed  in  the  soothing  and  plausive  strains  of  consola- 
tion, my  heart  throbbed  with  pleasure,  and  tears  of  transport  copiously 
evinced  the  rapture  of  my  souk  Society  meeting  succeeded  the  close 
of  public  service  ;  three  classes  of  the  people  were  denominated  Mcth-  • 
odists  :  The  congregation,  who,  as  outer-court  worshippers,  were  only 
hearers,  and  seekers  •  members  of  the  society,  who  were  classed  ;  and 
members  of  the.  band  society,  who  were  genuine  believers.  The  two 
latter  met  every  Sunday  evening  after  meeting,  and  no  individual,  who 
was  not  furnished  with  a  ticket,  could  gain  admittance.  This  ticket 
was  a  badge  of  distinction  ;  it  gave  the  possessor  entrance,  all  others 
were  shut  out,  and  the  door  was  locked.  No  words  can  describe  my 
sensations,  when  I  obtained  a  seat  inside  the  closed  door  ;  when  I  lis-  ' 
tened,  while  the  preacher  in  a  low  voice  addressed  the  children  of  God. 
The  house  was  not  unfrequently  filled  with  the  dissonant  sounds  of  ter-  \ 
ror,  and  joy,  issuing  from  the  discordant  voices  of  those,  who  were  in  / 
the  valley,  or  on  the  mount.  From  this  society,  I  returned  home,  to 
unite  in  family  devotion,  repeat  the  fundamental  points  in  my  religion, 
retire  to  my  private  devotions,  and  then  to  bed.  Monday  morning,  I 
arose  at  five  o'clock,  and,  after  the  same  preparation  as  on  Sunday,  at- 
tended meeting,  returned  to  breakfast,  occupied  myself  with  the  busi- 
ness of  the  day,  until  dinner  ;  after  dinner,  and  an  interval  passed  in  ' 
private  devotion,  to  secular  affairs  again,  until  evening  ;  then  once  more 
to  the  Methodist  meeting,  returned,  attended  family  arid  private  devo- 
tions, and  to  my  chamber  :  often  not  to  rest,  but  to  my  book,  till  mid- 
night. Thus  was  my  time  spent,  two  evenings  in  the  week  excepted, 
which  were  devoted  to  my  class,  and  one  night  in  the  week,  when  the 
society  assembled,  as  on  Sunday  evening ;  but,  alas !  the  fervour  of  spirit, 
excited  on  those  occasions,  cannot,  in  the  nature  of  things,  be  very 
durable.  There  were  individuals  in  my  class  who  proved  untoward, 
they  began  to  be  weary  in  well-doing  ;  this  was  a  source  of  sorrow,  the 
first  I  had  experienced  for  a  long  time  ;  added  to  this,  repeated  com- 
plaints reached  m)  ear,  and  not  unfrequently  slanderous  reports — re- 
ports one  against  another  !  This  tortured  me  ;  I  consulted  the  preach- 
ers, disputes  ran  high,  the  interposition  of  parents  became  indispensable. 

D 


22  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

and  the  class  was  broken  !  !  This  was  to  me  a  severe  trial ;  I  had  de- 
rived high  satisfaction  from  the  connexion,  and  from  the  fame,  which  it 
had  bestowed  upon  me  ;  I  however  lost  no  reputation,  it  was  generally 
believed  I  had  performed  my  duty,  and  that  no  boy,  beside  myself, 
would  have  kept  such  a  set  of  beings  together,  and  in  such  order  so 
long. 

This  was  a  season  replete  with  events,  whicli  possessed  for  me  no 
common  interest.  Constantly  in  society,  I  formed  many  attachments, 
and  I  began  to  fear  that  the  love  of  social  enjoyments  would,  like 
Aaron's  rod,  swallow  up  my  best  affections.  From  conviction  of  error, 
I  sought  retirement ;  I  loved  reading  more  than  any  thing  else,  but  I 
sighed  for  variety,  and  as  the  full  soul  loatheth  the  honey  comb,  I  be- 
gan to  sicken  at  the  constant  repetition  of  devotional  books.  My  fa- 
ther read  history,  and  some  few  novels,  but  he  took  special  care  to  se- 
cure those  books  from  his  children.  We  were  allowed  to  read  no 
books  but  the  bible,  and  volumes  based  upon  this  precious  depository 
of  whatsoever  things  are  good,  and  excellent.  I  sometimes,  however, 
glanced  my  eye  over  my  father's  shoulder,  and  rinding  Tom  Jones, 
or  the  history  of  a  Foundling,  in  his  hand,  the  efforts  at  concealment, 
which  he  evidently  made,  augmented  my  anxiety  to  read.  I  remember 
once  to  have  found  Clarissa  Harlowe  upon  his  table.  Hervey's  Medi- 
tations, and  Young's  Night  Thoughts,  were  not  interdicted  books,  and 
their  plaintive  sadness  obtained  an  easy  admission  into  the  inmost  re- 
cesses of  my  sou-l.  To  Milton  too  I  gave  some  hours,  but  I  could  not 
read  blank  verse,  nor  did  my  father  wish  to  encourage  my  attempts  in 
this  way.  He  saw  I  had  too  strong  a  passion  for  novelty,  and  he  deem- 
ed it  prudent  to  check  me  in  the  commencement  of  my  career. 

Although  my  devotional  ecstacies  were  diminished,  yet  I  was  steadi- 
ly attentive  to  my  religious  exercises,  and  I  believed  myself  daily  in- 
creasing in  goods.  It  is  true  my  life  was  as  variable  as  the  weather  ; 
sometimes  on  the  mount,  and  sometimes  in  the  valley,  sometimes  alive 
to  all  the  fervour  of  devotion,  and  sometimes,  alas  !  very  lifeless  :  Now 
rejoicing  in  hope,  and  anon  depressed  by  fear. 

The  preachers,  visiting  the  adjacent  villages,  often  requested  my 
father  to  permit  my  attendance  ;  his  consent  delighted  me  ;  I  reaped, 
from  those  little  excursions,  abundant  satisfaction,  and  the  preachers 
being  my  elders,  and  much  acquainted  with  the  world,  I  collected  from 
their  conversation  much  to  instruct,  and  amuse.  They  were,  howev- 
or,  young  men,  they  collected  young  company,  and  they  were  excellent 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  23 

singers;  this  was  a  most  pleasing  circumstance.  My  affections  naturally 
glowing,  I  soon  formed  strong  attachments,  and,  the  CRAFT  of  Mr.  Wes- 
ley changing  his  candidates  with  every  new  quarter,  the  farewell  ser- 
mons generally  dissolved  the  whole  congregation  in  tears,  and  my  bo- 
som was  often  lacerated  with  many,  and  deep  wounds. 

An  order  from  the  Bishop  no\v  arrived,  calling  upon   the  people  to 
prepare  for  confirmation,  and  young  persons  were  directed  to  wait  upon 
their   parish     minister  for    the   requisite  instruction.      Although  the 
Methodists  considered  themselves  Episcopalians,  yet  they  were  detest- 
ed  by  the  clergy  of  that  Church  ;  their  zeal  seemed  a  standing  satire 
upon  them  ;   and  their  indignation  was  proportioned  to  the  progress 
made  by  the  new  sect.     We,  however,  presented  ourselves  as   candi- 
dates for  confirmation  :  though  young,  I  was  pretty  generally  known, 
and  it  soon  became  evident,  that  I  had  incurred  the  displeasure  of  my 
minister.     No  question  was  proposed  to  me,  but  his  oblique  reflections 
were  abundant;  I  determined,  however,  to  address  him;  and  one  day 
when  he  was  cautioning  those,  who  were  honoured   by  his  attention, 
against  those  expectations  about  which  the  wild  Enthusiasts  of  the  day 
were  fanatically  raving,  such  as   the  extraordinary   operations  of  the 
spirit,  &c,  &c,  exhorting  them  to  consider  themselves  in  their  baptism 
made  members  of  Christ,   and  inheritors  of  the   kingdom  of  heaven,  I 
ventured  to  ask:  Did  I,  sir,  in  my  baptism,  receive  all  these  advanta- 
ges ?  In  a  most  ungracious  manner,  he  replied  :  "Undoubtedly."  Then, 
sir,  allow  me  to  ask,    What  can  I  want  more  ?    Of  what  use 'is  confir- 
mation ?     "  What  do  you  mean  by  asking  these    impertinent   ques- 
tions ?"     I  ask  for  information,   I  came  hither  to  be  instructed.    "  No, 
you  came  here  to  instruct  me,  you  want  to  see  your  patron,  John  Wes- 
ley, in  the  pulpit.     You  have  no  business  here."  I  conceive,  sir,  I  have 
business  here;  I  am  one  of  your  parish,   I  was  warned  to  attend,  for 
the  purpose  of  receiving  instruction  ;  and  to  whom  should  I  apply,  but 
to  my  minister  ?  He  deigned   not  to  answer  me,  but  when  we  again 
assembled,  I  observed  :  I   remember,  sir,  when  we  were  last  here,  you 
told  us,  there  was  no  such  thing  as  a  feeling  operation   of  the  spirit  of 
God  ;  I  request  therefore  to  know,   how  we  are  to  understand  that  ar- 
ticle of  our  Church,  which  pronounces  the  doctrine   of  election  full  of 
especial  comfort  to  all  godly  persons,  and  such  as  feel  in  themselves 
the  workings  of  the  spirit  of  the  Lord  ?     "  You  have  nothing  to  do 
with  the  articles,  you  do  not  understand  them."    I  should  suppose,  sir, 
that  every  member  of  a  Church  had  something  to  do  with  the  articles 


24  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

of  his  Church;  and  if  I  do  not  understand  them,  suffer  me  to  come  to 
you  for  information.  "  You  are  an  impertinent  fellow,  and  if  you 
thus  proceed,  I  shall  order  the  clerk  to  put  you  out  of  the  Church." 
You  may  order  me  out  yourself,  sir;  only  tell  me  to  go,  and  I  will  in- 
stantly depart.  Not.  another  syllable  was  uttered  to  me,  upon  this  occa- 
sion. But  upon,  the  following  Sunday,  when  the  young  people  of  the 
congregation  were  again  to  be  catechised,  I  appeared  with  the  rest,  and 
our  teacher  uttering  a  severe  and  pointed  sarcasm,  I  was  sufficiently 
abashed  to  cover  my  face  with  my  hat — when,  in  a  very  angry  tone, 
he  commanded  me  to  depart  from  the  Church,  he  would  suffer  no 
laughter  there.  I  assured  this  Christian  preacher,  that  I  did  not  laugh, 
that  I  felt  no  disposition  to  laugh ;  he  insisted,  that  I  did,  and  with 
great  confusion  I  withdrew  from  the  altar  :  but  waiting  for  him  in  the 
porch  of  the  Church,  I  humbly  implored  his  pardon,  while  I  informed 
him,  that  he  had  done  me  much  wrong;  that  I  had  too  sacred  a  venera- 
tion for  the  place  I  was  in,  to  deport  myself  unbecomingly  while  under 
its  roof ;  that  I  had  not  the  smallest  inclination  to  mirth  ;  that  the  con- 
sideration of  his  denying  the  operation  of  the  spirit  upon  the  heart  had 
too  much  disturbed,  and  grieved  me.  "  Well,  I  do  still  say,  there  is  no 
especial,  operation  of  thqf  spirit :  I  have  never  experienced  any  thing 
of  this  description."  How  then,  suffer  me  to  ask,  could  you  say,  when 
you  were  ordained,  that  you  felt  yourself  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost  to 
take  upon  you  the  office  of  a  teacher  ?  '*  You  know  nothing  of  the 
matter,  you  are  very  impertinent."  Many  were  standing  by,  who 
seemed  pleased  with  the  advantage  I  had  so  apparently  gained,  and, 
while  thus  remunerated  for  the  insult  I  had  received,  I  returned  home 
in  triumph. 

Some  time  after,  as  I  was  passing  the  street,  one  of  my  acquaintance 
asked  me,  if  I  knew  the  bishop  was  at  that  moment  engaged  in  con- 
firming the  young  people  of  our  parish  ?  I  instantly  repaired  to  the 
Church,  and  to  my  great  surprise,  found  the  information  correct ;  my 
good  priest  had  not  intended  I  should  be  apprized  of  the  business.  I 
advanced  however  to  the  altar,  and  presented  myself  to  the  bishop. 
My  priest  appeared  exceedingly  irritated,  and  made  a  communication 
to  the  bishop,  in  a  tone  too  low  to  be  understood  by  me ;  but  his 
Lordship  replied  aloud,  "  it.  is  of  no  consequence  what  they  are,  pro- 
vided they  understand  what  they  are  about."  From  this  reply  I  con- 
cluded the  priest  had  accused  me  of  Methodism.  It  happened,  that  I 
was  the  first  of  the  circle  presented  round  the  altar,  and  he  began  as* 
follows : 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY  *J5 

Bishop.     What  is  your  business  here  ? 

Murray.  My  lord,  when  I  was  baptised,  my  sponsors  promised,  in 
my  name,  to  renounce  the  Devil  and  all  his  works,  the  pomps  and  vani- 
ties of  this  wicked  world,  with  all  the  sinful  lusts  of  the  flesh.  They 
engaged  also,  that  so  soon  as  I  should  have  learned  the  creed,  the  Lord's 
prayer,  and  the  ten  commandments,  they  would  introduce  me  to  this 
ordinance  ;  as,  however,  they  have  neglected  so  to  do,  I  beg  leave  to 
present  myself. 

Bishop.  What  idea  have  you  of  this  ordinance  ? 

Murray.  I  conceive,  my  lord,  that  the  engagement  entered  into  at 
my  baptism,  cannot  be  fulfilled  without  the  aid,  and  operation  of  the 
spirit  of  the  Ldrd  ;  and  I  am  taught  to  consider  this  ordinance  as  a 
mean  of  grace,  through  which  I  may  obtain  the  aid  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
so  requisite  to  my  well  doing. 

Bishop.  (With  a  softened  voice)  Have  you  ever  been  at  the  Com- 
munion ? 

Murray.  Yes,  my  lord,  and  although  I  ventured  at  first  with  fear, 
and  trembling,  yet  deriving  therefrom  real  consolation,  I  have  never 
since  absented  myself.  "  You  are  right,"  said  the  Bishop,  and  imme- 
diately laying  his  hands  upon  my  head,  he  prayed  for  me,  with  the 
greatest  apparent  fervour.  Turning  to  a  lad,  who  stood  next  me,  he 
asked  him  the  same  question  he  had  previously  addressed  to  me  :  he 
was  unprovided  with  an  answer.  "  This  is  astonishing,"  said  the  bish- 
op ;  "  I  should  have  thought  you  would  at  least  have  learned  to  answer 
from  the  youth  who  spoke  be  fore  you;"  and  he  gave  my  priest  a  glance, 
which  called  the  blush  of  confusion  into  his  face.  I  was  extremely 
gratified,  so  were  my  friends  in  general,  and  my  pious  father  in  par- 
ticular. Mr.  John  Wesley  now  made  us  a  visit,  he  paid  me  the  most 
distinguishing  attention,  and  the  regards  of  such  a  man  were,  to  a  young 
heart,  truly  flattering  ;  he  cherished  the  idea,  that  I  should  shortly  be- 
come a  useful  labourer  in  the  field,  which  he  so  sedulously  cultivated. 
One  thing,  however,  gave  him  anxiety, — the  probability  that  I  had  im- 
bibed my  father's  damnable  principles,  for  such  he  denominated  the 
Calvinistic  tenets ;  yet  he  hoped  better  things  of  me,  and  things  which 
accompanied  salvation.  When  in  my  father's  house,  he  manifested  to- 
ward him  the  greatest  kindness  and  friendship  ;  but  on  leaving  the 
country,  he  charged  his  followers  to  keep  a  strict  watch  over  him,  lest, 
through  the  influence  of  his  great  piety,  he  should  infuse  his  abominable 
sentiments  into  the  minds  of  some  of  the  brethren.  Mr.  Wesley's  dis- 


26  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

ciples  considered  him  the  Apostle  of  the  age  :  and  I  experienced  a 
reverential  awe  in  his  presence ;  yet  there  were  points  in  his  conduct, 
which  excited  my  wonder,  and  which,  in  any  other  character,  I  should 
not  have  hesitated  to  pronounce  wrong  ;  but  I  should  have  believed  it 
criminal  even  to  suspect  that  he  could  err.  My  Religion  was  becoming 
more  and  more  formal,  it  seemed  a  body  without  a  soul.  Sometimes 
indeed,  when  listening  to  a  lively,  warm-hearted  preacher,  I  was  made 
most  keenly  to  feel  the  poverty  of  my  condition ;  that,  while  I  was  be- 
lieved rich,  and  increasing  in  goods,  having  need  of  nothing,  I  was 
in  truth  miserably  poor,  blind,  and  naked.  This  consideration  often 
rendered  me  very  sad,  I  suffered  much,  and,  in  proportion  as  I  appear- 
ed to  suffer,  I  became  the  object  of  respectful  attention.  Glooms,  and 
melancholy,  were  considered  as  infallible  signs  of  a  gracious  disposi- 
tion, not  only  by  my  father,  but  by  all  my  religious  connexions.  One 
of  our  preachers  used  to  say,  he  had  rather  be  in  the  company  of  a 
thousand  Demons,  than  ten  laughing  persons  !  Unfortunately  for  the 
maintenance  of  my  standing  in  the  society,  my  sadness  was  not  uni- 
form, and,  preserving  no  medium,  I  always  became  gay  in  full  propor- 
tion to  my  previous  depression :  and,  in  truth,  cheerfulness  was  becom- 
ing the  prevailing  temper  of  my  mind,  and  I  know  not  how  long  it 
might  have  continued  so,  if  I  had  not  observed,  to  my  great  conster- 
nation, that  I  was  daily  losing  ground  in  the  estimation  of  my  asso- 
ciatesL  This  conviction  banished  my  dangerous  vivacity,  and  restored 
my  respectability.  I  now  sedulously  avoided  society,  and  frequently 
envied  those  who  were  released  from  this  dangerous  world.  I  have 
often,  after  a  night  of  suffering,  risen  with  the  dawn,  and  entering  the 
church-yard,  have  passed  hours  there,  contemplating  the  happy  state 
of  those  who  were  lodged  in  their  narrow  house,  and  ardently  longing 
to  be  as  they  were.  Even  my  father  began  to  fear,  that  I  was  rapidly 
declining,  and  by  his  consequent  tenderness  I  wras  beyond  expression 
touched. 

I  cannot  now  determine  how  long  this  frame  of  mind  continued, 
but  this  I  know,  that  it  lasted  long  enough  to  gain  me  more  reputation, 
both  at  home  and  abroad,  than  I  had  lost ;  there  was  such  a  variety 
in  my  feelings,  the  changes  in  my  spirit  from  sad  to  gay,  from  gay  to 
sad,  were  so  frequent,  that  I  had  of  course  far  more  experience, than  any 
other  person  of  my  age.  'The  young,  when  under  awakenings,  al- 
ways resorted  to  me  for  comfort  and  information,  while  the  old  lwn<r 
with  delight  on  my  narrations  :  the  prayers  of  my  father  obtained  diu> 


LIFE  OF  REY.  JOHN  MURRAY.  27 

Credit ;  the  child  of  so  many  prayers  could  only  be  as  I  was.  I  was 
at  this  time  about  sixteen  years  of  age,  but  commencing  life  so  early, 
I  felt  like  twenty,  and  I  anticipated  all  the  enjoyments  which  awaited  me. 
About  this  period,  our  society  were  gratified  by  a  most  unexpected 
acquisition.  A  gentleman  of  great  fortune,  who  had  been  a  virulent 
opposer  of  the  Methodists,  became  a  zealous  convert  to  their  tenets, 
and,  with  his  lady,  joined  our  congregation  ;  no  event  had  ever  given 
such  exultation,  such  complete  satisfaction.  They  had  belonged  to 
the  Presbyterian  meeting,  and  their  numerous  kindred,  worshipping 
there,  continued  inveterate  adversaries.  Between  my  father  and  the 
new  convert  the  warmest  friendship  took  place ;  and  his  good  lady,  who 
was  indeed  one  of  the  first  of  women,  became  as  warmly  attached  to 
our  family  as  her  husband.  They  had  been  converted  at  the  same 
time ;  and  as  new  converts  are  always  the  most  zealous,  this  good  couple, 
although  advanced  in  years,  used  to  rise  at  four  in  the  morning,  in  the 
depth  of  winter,  and  go  round  among  the  neighbours,  in  order  to  arouse 
them  in  time  to  attend  morning  service,  which  was  regularly  at  five 
o'clock,  winter  and  summer  ;  our  house  being  in  the  way,  they  never 
omitted  calling  upon  us  ;  my  father  was  not  always  well  enough  to 
accompany  them,  but  I  never  failed,  and  the  delight  they  took  in  me 
was  great.  Their  family  consisted  of  two  sons,  one  older  than  myself, 
and  one  of  my  own  age,  and  two  daughters  younger  than  their  broth- 
ers  :  for  a  long  season  this  family,  and  ours,  spent  at  least  a  part  of 
every  day  together ;  they  met  constantly  at  Church,  and  had  bpside 
many  private  interviews.  Mr.  Little,  the  name  of  our  new  friend,  be- 
longed to  a  class  of  which  my  father  was  the  leader,  and  Mrs.  Little  to 
my  mother's  band.  The  classes  generally  consisted  of  twelve,  beside 
the  leader.  The  band  was  formed  from  the  classes,  and  consisted  of 
six,  beside  the  leader.  These  bands  were  composed  of  true  believers, 
and  of  one  sex,  and  condition  :  The  single  women,  the  married  wo- 
men, and  the  widows,  the  single  men,  the  married  men,  and  the  wid- 
owers. My  mother  was  a  leader  of  a  band  of  married  women.  The 
youth,  I  have  mentioned,  of  my  own  age,  sought  and  obtained  my  con- 
fidence ;  I  conceived  for  him  the  warmest  affection,  and  I  had  every 
reason  to  suppose  the  attachment  mutual  ;  we  passed  many  delightful 
hours  together,  and  the  discovery  of  our  friendship  gave  real  satisfaction 
to  our  parents.  The  eldest  son  adhered  to  the  Church,  the  family  had 
left';  and  the  only  daughter  who  was  of  age  to  decide,  embraced  the 
principles  of  her  parents.  From  our  connexion  with  these  worthy 


28  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

people,  I  derived  great  pleasure;  I  was  much  beloved  by  the  principal*: 
of  the  family,  and  I  had  great  delight  in  the  society  of  their  children. 
I  have  frequently  retired  with  my  young  friend  to  read,  and  pray,  we 
had  in  fact  no  solitary  pleasures.  It  was  in  the  closet  of  this  friend,  that 
I  first  became  acquainted  with  Addison,  Pope,  Parnel,  Thomson, 
and  Shakspeare  ;  we  read  those  writings  together,  never  shall  I  for- 
get the  avidity  with  which  I  seized,  and  the  delight  with  which  I  pe- 
rused those  authors,  I  was  beyond  expression  fascinated  by  their  num- 
bers ;"  but  I  thought  best  carefully  to  conceal  this  new  source  of  enjoy- 
ment from  my  father.  The  library,  to  which  I  thus  obtained  free  ac- 
cess, was  very  extensive  :  besides  the  books  already  named,  it  contain- 
ed much  to  attract  a  young  mind  ;  novels,  essays,  and  histories,  by  a 
frequent  perusal  of  which,  I  was  both  informed,  and  improved.  Thus, 
in  the  full  enjoyment  of  sweet  serenity,  glided  on  many  happy  months  ; 
my  time  was  divided  between  the  habitation  of  my  father,  and  his 
friends ;  I  enjoyed  the  warm  regards  of  every  individual  of  this  amiable 
family,  the  eldest  son  excepted,  nor  was  he  a  malignant  foe  ;  he  con- 
tented himself  with  making  a  jest  of  our  devotion,  which  only  served  to 
attach  us  the  more  closely  to  each  other  :  but,  as  the  affection  of  the 
youngest  son  grew  for  me,  it  appeared  to  diminish  for  his  brother. 
This  fact  rendered  his  parents  unhappy,  and  I  myself  was  seriously  af- 
flicted, lest  I  should  be  regarded  either  directly,  or  indirectly,  as  the 
source  of  their  inquietude.  They,  however,  did  not  hesitate  to  impute 
to  their  eldest  son's  aversion  from  religion  every  thing  unpleasant  be- 
tween their  children,  and  I  had  credit  for  my  full  share  of  that  redtitudc, 
and  correct  conduct,  to  which  their  youngest  son  was,  by  nature,  so 
uniformly  inclined.  It  must,  however,  be  confessed,  that  the  first-born 
was  not  without  causes  of  irritation  ;  I  was  evidently  the  brother  of  his 
brother's  affection,  I  was  the  object  of  his  parents'  regard,  his  eldesl 
sister  discovered,  on  all  occasions,  a  very  strong  partiality  for  me,  and 
even  the  youngest,  a  child  of  about  six  years  old,  made  me  the  confi- 
dant of  all  her  little  secrets,  often  hung  about  my  neck,  with  infantile 
fondness,  while  her  sweet  endearments  were  precious  to  my  heart.  It 
was  not  then,  I  repeat,  very  wonderful,  if  the  young  gentleman,  who 
felt  himself  aggrieved,  should  become  very  unhappy,  and  very  much  my 
enemy.  While  I  was  thus  considered  as  a  child  of  this  family,  a  young 
lady,  a  distant  relation  of  Mrs.  L'ttle,  was  introduced  as  a  visitor;  she 
also  was  a  Methodist,  and  of  great  piety.  My  young  friend,  and  myself, 
were  in  the  parlour  when  she  entered,  but  soon  withdrew,  when  we 


LIFE  OF  KEY.  JOHN  MURRAY.  29 

both  agreed,  she  was  the  most  ordinary  young  woman  we  had  ever 
beheld  ;  she  was,  I  presume,  more  than  twenty  -five  years  of  age,  under 
the  common  stature,  of  a  very  sallow  complexion,  large  features,  and  a 
disagreeable  cast  in  her  eye  ;  yet  this  same  young  lady  had  not  been 
more  than  three  weeks  under  the  same  roof  with  us,  before  we  both 
became  violently  in  love  with  her.  Many  days  however  elapsed,  be- 
fore either  became  acquainted  with  the  passion  of  the  other ;  but  t 
could  never  conceal  any  thing  long,  especially  from  this  my  second  self: 
and  on  a  summer  evening,  as  we  pursued  our  usual  walk  through  a 
flowery  mead,  on  the  margin  of  a  beautiful  river,  both  sadly  pensive 
and  sighing,  as  if  our  hearts  were  breaking,  my  friend  mournfully  in- 
quired :  "  What,  my  dear  Murray,  afflicts  you  ?  why  are  you  so  sad  ?" 
I  am  ashamed  of  myself,  I  cannot  tell  you  the  cause  of  my  distress. 
"  Not  tell  me  !  would  you,  can  you  conceal  any  thing  from  me  ?"  I 
felt  the  full  force  of  a  question ,  asked  in  a  tone  of  endearing  sympathy, 
No,  my  friend,  you  shall  be  made  acquainted  with  my  whole  heart, 
I  will  have  no  reserves  to  you  :  but  you,  you  also  are  unhappy,  and 
I  am  ignorant  of  the  cause  !  "  Depend  on  it,  I  shall  not  hesitate  to 
give  you  every  mark  of  confidence,  when  you  shall  set  the  example." 
Well  then,  my  brother,  my  friend,  will  you  not  wonder,  (and  indeed 
I  am  myself  astonished)  when  I  assure  you,  that  I  have  conceived  for 
Miss  Dupee  the  strongest,  and  most  tender  passion  !  He  started,  ap- 
peared confused,  and  for  some  moments  we  both  continued  silent. 
At  length,  taking  my  hand,  he  said  :  "  I  pity  you  from  my  soul,  'nor  do 
I  blame  your  attachment  ;  for,  however  unattractive  in  person,  who  that 
hears  Miss  Dupee  converse,  who  that  has  any  knowledge  of  her  mind, 
can  avoid  loving  her,  even  as  you  love  her  ;  and  to  prove  to  you  how 
fully  I  am  qualified  to  sympathise  with  you,  let  me  frankly  own,  that  I 
also  love  this  charming  woman."  This  unexpected  avowal  greatly 
afflicted  me,  I  trembled  lest  so  strong  a  passion,  for  the  same  object, 
should  eventually  prove  fatal  to  our  friendship.  I  expressed  to  this 
dear,  amiable  youth  my  apprehensions,  when  he  caught  my  hand,  and 
with  glistening  eyes,  exclaimed  :  "  Never,  my  brother,  no  never  tliall 
any  thing  separate  between  thee  and  me.  By  first  communicating  your 
sentiments,  you  have  acquired  a  prior  right,  which  I  will  not,  dare  not 
invade.  No  one  else  shall  hear  of  my  infant  love,  I  will  not  allow 
myself  to  see  her,  but  when  seated  by  your  side  ;  and  although  I  love 
her  more  than  any  body  I  ever  have,  or,  as  I  believe,  ever  shall  see,  I 
never  will  be  the  cause  of  your  unhappirfess."  This  generosity  war 

E 


JU  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

truly  affecting.  I  caught  him  to  my  bosom,  I  wept,  I  even  sobbed  a* 
I  held  him  to  my  heart,  and  unable  to  bear  his  superiority,  I  exclaimed : 
No,  my  noble-hearted  friend,  never  will  I  accept  such  a  sacrifice  : 
we  are  yet  to  learn  for  which  of  us  her  heavenly  Father  has  designed 
this  treasure.  Let  us  both,  as  occasion  may  occur,  indulge  ourselves 
in  her  society,  and  should  the  event  prove  that  you  are  the  highly  fa- 
voured mortal,  I  hope,  and  believe,  I  shall  willingly  resign  her,  and 
content  myself  with  listening  to  her  heavenly  accents.  And,  truth  to  say, 
she  possessed  a  most  enchanting  voice ;  a  most  fascinating  manner,  ad- 
mirably calculated  to  gain  hearts,  especially  young  hearts,  simple,  and 
softened  by  Religion  ;  and,  what  was  above  all  bewitching,  she  sang 
the  most  divine  of  Mr.  Wesley's  hymns  in  a  most  divinely  impressive 
manner.  While,  however,  we  were  mutually  acceding  to  this  wise  plan 
for  the  disposal  of  Miss  Dupee,  it  never  once  entered  into  our  heads, 
that  she  very  possibly  was  not  designed  for  either  of  us.  Perhaps  tew 
youthful  bosoms  have  ever  endured  a  greater  conflict  between  love,  and 
friendship  :  We  experienced  both  in  no  common  degree,  but  friendship 
in  both  our  hearts  became  triumphant.  This  amiable  woman  contin- 
ued, for  some  time,  decidedly  the  object  of  our  deliberate  election,  but 
I  had,  however,  reason  to  believe  my  attachment  the  strongest,  for  it 
deprived  me  of  both  rest,  and  appetite.  For  the  first  time,  I  began  to 
tag  rhymes :  I  have  sat  by  the  hour  together  upon  an  eminence,  whence 
I  could  behold  her  habitation,  poetizing,  and  sighing,  as  if  my  heart 
would  break ;  I  had  some  reason  to  believe  she  had  discovered,  and 
was  diverted  with  my  passion  ;  indeed  she  must  have  laughed  at  me, 
if  she  had  not  despised  me.  After  a  long  struggle  between  my  hopes, 
and  my  fears,  I  ventured  to  address  a  letter  to  Miss  Dupee,  filled  with 
the  warmest  professions  of  eternal  affection,  and  conjuring  her,  at  least  to 
grant  me  leave  to  hope.  I  dared  not  entrust  a  domestic  with  this  let- 
ter, lest  it  should  be  discovered  by  my  father,  for  the  dread  of  meeting 
a  refusal  from  my  mistress  was  not  more  terrible  to  my  imagination, 
than  that  my  father  should  obtain  knowledge  of  my  temerity.  One 
night,  therefore,  returning  from  the  society,  with  e  r,  and  trembling, 
I  put  my  letter  into  her  hand,  humbly  requesting  she  would  honour  it 
witji  a  secret  perusal.  She  took  it,  and,  gypsey  as  she  was,  absolutely 
pressed  my  hand,  which  pressure  almost  suffocated  me  with  transport  ; 
I  parted  from  her  at  the  door,  and  from  that  moment  neither  slept,  nor 
eat,  till  I  was  cured,  radically  cured.  It  was  upon  a  Wednesday  night, 
T  delivered  my  letter  :  what  did  I  not  suffer  from  the  torture  of  sus- 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  31 

pense,  until  Friday  evening  ;  nothing  could  I  hear  of,  or  from  her,  I 
was  afraid  to  go  to  Mr.  Little's,  I  feared  every  thing,  but  the  thing  I 
had  most  reason  to  fear — the  contempt  and  indignation  of  my  own 
father.  It  never  once  entered  my  thoughts,  that  she  would  communi- 
cate my  letter  to  any  one,  and  least  of  all,  that  she  would  expose  me 
to  my  father  ;  but  instead  of  writing  me  an  answer,  such  an  answer  as 
my  fond,  foolish  heart,  sometimes  ventured  to  expect,  she  inclosed  my 
very  first  love-letter  to  the  very  last  person  in  the  world  to  whom  I 
should  have  chosen  to  confide  it !  1  was  at  this  time  debilitated  by 
the  want  of  rest  and  food,  which,  for  the  preceding  fortnight,  I  had 
rarely  taken,  and  upon  this  Friday  evening,  as  I  entered  the  presence 
of  my  father,  an  unusual  dread  pervaded  my  spirits.  It  is  too  true,  I 
never  appeared  before  him,  without  apprehension  ;  but,  upon  this  oc- 
casion,! was  unusually  agitated  :  but  how  were  my  terrors  augmented, 
when  my  father,  with  a  countenance  of  the  most  solemn  indignation, 
ordered  me  to  approach.  The  season  of  castigation  had  gone  by. 
indeed  my  father  was  too  feeble  to  administer  corporeal  chastisement, 
but,  like  the  Prince  of  Denmark,  although  he  did  not  use  daggers,  he 
could  speak  them — he  could  look  them.  I  cannot  now  remember  who, 
or  rather  how  many,  were  present  ;  my  mother,  and  my  brothers  and 
sisters  of  course.  My  poor  mother,  I  am  confident,  felt  keenly  for  me, 
although  she  dared  not  interfere.  "  Come  hither,  sir,"  said  my  father  ; 
"  approach,  I  say."  I  drew  near,  with  fear,  and  trembling,  but  yet  I 
knew  not  why  :  When,  fixing  his  piercing,  penetrating  eyes  upon  me, 
with  a  look  of  such  sovereign  contempt,  as  almost  struck  me  blind,  he 
began  very  deliberately  to  search  his  pockets;  after  a  pause,which  seemed 
interminable,  out  came  a  letter.  I  was  instantaneously  covered  with 
a  most  profuse  perspiration  ;  I  trembled  and  became  so  faint,  that  I 
was  obliged  to  catch  at  a  chair  for  support.  But  my  father  continued 
slowly  opening  the  killing  letter,  and  looking  alternately  at  it,  and  its 
author,  and  curling  his  nose,  as  if  his  olfactory  nerve  had  been  annoyed 
by  something  extremely  offensive,  he  again  fixed  his  eyes  upon  me,  and 
tauntingly  said :  "  So,  you  poor,  foolish  child,  you  write  love-letters,  do 
you  !  you  want  a  wife,  do  you  ?"  and,  feigning  an  attempt  to  read  it, 
but  pretending  inability,  he  extended  it  to  me,  saying  :  "  Take  it,  thou 
love-sick  swain,  and  let  us  hear  how  thou  addressest  thy  Dulcinea."  I 
burst  into  tears,  but  I  confess  they  were  tears  of  wrathful  indignation, 
and  at  that  moment  I  detested  the  lady,  my  father,  and  myself.  "  Go," 
continued  my  father,  "  Go,  thou  idle  boy,  depart  instantly  out  of  my 


LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

sight :"  and  out  of  his  sight  I  accordingly  went,  almost  wishing  I  might 
never  again  appear  before  him.  This  night  I  parted  with  my  passion 
for  Miss  Dupee ;  I  sighed  for  an  opportunity  of  opening  my  heart  to  m  j 
ever  faithful  friend,  I  expected  consolation  from  him,  and  I  was  not 
disappointed.  Suspecting  the  business  was  the  subject  of  conversation 
in  the  house  of  Mr.  Little,  I  determined  to  go  thither  no  more  :  with 
my  friend,  however,  I  took  my  usual  walk  ;  he  perceived  the  sadness  of 
my  soul,  but  it  was  a  consolation  to  me  to  learn,  that  he  was  ignorant 
of  the  cause:  I  poured  my  grief  into  his  bosom,  and  his  indignation 
was  unbounded  ;  hatred  for  Miss  Dupee  grew  in  his  soul,  yet,  when  I 
knew  she  had  the  goodness  never  to  communicate  my  folly  to  any  one, 
but  my  father,  and  this  in  a  private  letter,  I  could  not  but  esteem  her. 
So  here  rested  the  affair,  and  I  wrote  no  more  love-letters,  until  I  ad- 
dressed the  lady  whom  I  married.  Though  I  was  not  by  this  torturing 
business  exempted  from  la  belle  passion,  yet  I  was  prevented  by  my 
fears  from  its  manifestation.  In  fact  it  was  not  until  I  was  in  a  situa- 
tion to  make  an  election,  as  I  supposed  for  life,  that  I  was  again  con- 
demned to  struggle  with  a  sentiment  so  imposing,  as  that  which  had 
occasioned  me  so  much  vexation.  Many  fair  faces  attracted,  and  for 
a  time  fixed  my  attention,  and  I  sometimes  looked  forward  to  the 
brightest,  purest  scenes  of  domestic  felicity,  which  were  however  as 
visionary,  as  could  have  been  conceived  in  the  pericranium  of  the  most 
confirmed  lunatic. 

The  religious  melancholy,  so  pleasing  to  my  father,  again  took  pos- 
session of  my  mind  ;  once  more  at  early  dawn  I  haunted  the  church- 
yard, frequently  repeating  to  myself, 

"  The  man  how  blest,  who,  sick  of  gaudy  scenes, 
Is  led  by  choice  to  take  his  favourite  walk 
Beneath  death's  gloomy,  silent  cypress  shades, 
To  read  his  monuments,  to  weigh  his  dust, 
Visit  his  vaults,  and  dwell  among  the  tombs." 

The  intervening  hours  of  public  worship,  on  Sunday,  were  passed 
by  me  at  Church,  in  appropriate  meditation  and  prayer  :  the  solemn 
stillness  of  the  place  aided  my  aspirations,  and  rendered  me  abundant- 
ly more  gloomy  ;  but  the  versatility  of  my  disposition  still  gave  me  to 
emerge,  and  I  was  then  proportionably  vivacious.  In  this  zigzag 
manner  I  proceeded,  gaining  something  every  day,  while  I  enjoyed  a 
fine  state  of  health,  and  the  happiness  of  being  much  beloved  by  a  large 
circle  of  respectable  connexions.  I  still  continued  to  cultivate  my  gar- 
den ;  it  was  the  best  in  the  place,  and  being  seen  and  admired  by  many. 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  33 

my  pious  brethren  were  apprehensive  it  would  become  my  idol  ;  but 
we  all  have  our  idols.  Mr.  Wesley  was  the  idol  of  the  many.  One 
evening  at  a  love-feast,  when  the  whole  society  were  assembled, -a  pious 
sister,  while  narrating  her  experiences,  looking  earnestly  at  Mr.  Wesley, 
vehemently  exclaimed  :  "  O  !  sir,  I  consider  myself  as  much  indebted 
to  God  for  you,  as  for  Jesus  Christ !"  The  whole  company  were 
greatly  surprised,  and,  as  I  believe,  expected  Mr.  Wesley  would  have 
reproved  her  for  this  speech  ;  but  it  passed,  without  any  then  expressed 
observation.  The  ensuing  day  it  became  the  subject  of  animadversion, 
when  I  undertook  to  defend  her,  by  remarking,  that  as  she  never  could 
have  had  any  advantage  from  Jesus  Christ,  if  she  had  never  heard  of, 
and  believed  in  him  ;  she  certainly  was  as  much  indebted  to  Almighty 
God  for  sending  Mr.  Wesley,  through  whom  she  obtained  this  re- 
deeming knowledge,  as  for  the  Saviour,  in  whom  she  believed  !  ! 

My  close  connexion  with  my  young  friend,  although  very  pleasant 
to  my  social  propensities,  subjected  me,  nevertheless,  to  some  pain.  lie 
was  indulged  with  more  pocket  money,  than  I  could  command  ;  and 
although  he  considered  his  stipend  never  so  well  employed,  as  when  it 
contributed  to  my  convenience,  yet,  disliking  dependence,  I  had  re- 
course to  methods  of  obtaining  money,  which  did  not  always  please  me  ; 
I  sometimes  borrowed,  and  sometimes  solicited  gifts  from  my  mother, 
which  I  did  not  find  it  easy  to  repay.  It  would  have  been  well  if 
neither  my  companion,  nor  myself,  had  been  in  the  habit  of  spending 
money ;  we  derived  therefrom  no  advantage  ;  it  introduced  us  into 
company,  where  we  were  apt  to  forget  ourselves  ;  it  is  true  we  were 
never  inebriated,  but  we  were  often  gay,  and,  for  religious  character?, 
too  much  offour  guard.  This  dear  youth  was  not,  like  me,  habi  uated 
to  religion,  he  was  not  early  disciplined  by  its  most  rigid  laws  ;  I  could 
with  abundantly  more  facility  turn  aside  with  him,  than  he  could  pur- 
Sue  with  me  the  narrow  path,  in  which  I  had  generally  walked.  We 
became  gradually  too  fond  of  pleasures,  which  would  not  bear  examin- 
ation ;  yet  they  were  such  as  the  world  denominated  innocent,  although 
they  strongly  impelled  us  to  gratifications  disallowed  by  Religion.  We 
were  now  fast  advancing  in  life,  and,  with  all  the  enthusiasm  of  youth, 
we  were  planning  schemes  for  futurity,  when  lo  !  my  precious,  my 
early  friend,  was  seized  by  a  malignant  fever,  which  soon  deprived  him 
of  his  reason.  I  was  on  the  verge  of  distraction,  I.  entreated  permission 
to  tarry  constantly  by  his  bedside  ;  the  progress  of  the  disease  was 
astonishingly  rapid,  and  in  a  few  days  this  dear,  this  amiable  youth. 


34  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

whom  I  loved  as  my  own  soul,  expired  in  a  strong  delirium  !  Every 
one  regretted  the  departure  of  this  young  man,  every  one  sympathised 
with  his  parents,  and  many  extended  pity  to  me.  I  was  indeed  beyond 
expression  wretched  ;  it  was  the  first  calamity  of  the  kind,  which  I  had 
ever  been  called  to  suffer,  and  my  agonies  were  in  full  proportion  to 
the  strong  affection,  which  I  had  conceived  for  the  deceased.  Society 
no  longer  possessed  a  charm  for  me,  and  yet  the  parents  of  the  dear 
departed  never  willingly  permitted  me  to  quit  their  presence  ;  indeed, 
the  love,  they  had  borne  their  son,  seemed  to  be  entirely  transferred  to 
.me  ;  but  their  sufferings  were  incalculably  augmented,  when,  in  a  few- 
succeeding  weeks,  their  eldest,  and  only  surviving  son,  fell  a  victim  to 
the  same  fatal  malady,  which  had  deprived  them  of  his  brother  !  Never 
before  did  I  witness  such  sad,  and  heart-affecting  sorrow  :  a  gloomy 
Religion  is  always  increased  by  scenes  of  melancholy,  hence  the  horrors 
of  my  mind  were  beyond  description.  Every  thing  I  had  done,  every 
word  I  had  uttered,  not  strictly  conformable  to  the  rule  of  right,  re- 
turned upon  my  mind  with  redoubled  terror,  and  in  the  midst  of  these 
agonizing  fears,  I  was  violently  seized  by  the  same  fever,  which  had 
destroyed  my  friend.  I  was,  upon  the  first  appearance  of  this  mortal 
disease,  exceedingly  alarmed,  but  in  a  few  hours  it  prostrated  my  rea- 
son ;  my  mother  appeared  to  me  as  a  stranger,  and  although  I  recog- 
nised my  father,  I  was  not  afraid  of  him.  I  understood  every  thing 
which  was  said  by  those  about  me,  and  I  suffered  much  in  consequence 
of  their  expressed  apprehensions  and  predictions  :  and  I  have  often 
thought,  that  attendants  in  the  chamber  of  sickness  do  not  sufficiently 
consider  the  situation  of  the  suffering  patient,  or  the  possibility,  that  the 
freedom  ot  their  remarks  may  augment  his  depression.  I  continued  to 
linger,  in  the  midst  of  extreme  torture,  through  many  weeks  ;  and  so 
high,  and  unremitted  was  my  delirium,  that  my  parents,  from  a  persua- 
sion that,  should  I  be  restored  to  health,  my  reason  was  forever  lost, 
were  reconciled  to  my  departure.  One  particular  I  consider  as  aston- 
ing  ;  every  thing,  which  passed  in  my  mind  through  the  whole  of  this 
protracted  delirium,  I  can,  to  this  day,  recollect  as  well  as  any  event, 
which  has  taken  place  in  any  part  of  my  life.  Contrary  to  the  expec- 
tations of  surrounding  friends,  I  was  gradually  restored  to  perfect  health, 
when  I  became  still  more  endeared  to  the  parents  of  my  deceased 
companion  ;  they  would  have  laid  me  in  their  bosoms,  gladly  cher- 
ishing me  as  the  son  of  their  affection.  The  old  gentleman  visited  my 
father  every  day,  and  his  lady  was  equally  intimate  with  my  mother. 


f. 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  35 

1  wept  with  them,  I  prayed  with  them,  and  every  day  our  mutual  at- 
tachment acquired  new  energy.  They  expressed  their  wishes  to  my 
father,  that  I  should  become  a  permanent  resident  in  their  family.  My 
father,  apparently  terrified,  was  unqualified  in  his  rejection  !  It  would 
injure  me  by  too  high-raised  expectations,  it  would  give  me  indulgences, 
fatal  to  my  future  peace,  and  happiness.  For  myself,  I  had  recently 
entertained  an  exalted  opinion  of  my  father  ;  and  for  his  repeated,  and, 
as  I  once  believed,  severe  chastisements,  gratitude  glowed  in  my  bosom  ; 
consequently  I  was  not  inclined  to  act  contrary  to  his  "wishes  in  any 
respect,  and  he  had  sufficient  address  to  avoid  offending  his  friends.  In 
fact,  so  exalted  was  their  opinion  of  his  wisdom,  and  piety,  that  they 
would  have  considered  it  criminal  to  censure  him. 

I  was  now  the  very  shadow  of  my  father  ;  I  visited,  it  is  true ;  But  it 
was  always  under  his  guardian  care.  He  began  to  derive  pleasure  from 
conversing  with  me,  and  our  satisfaction  was  mutual  j  still,  however,  I 
experienced,  in  his  presence,  more  of  reverential  awe,  than  filial  tender- 
ness ;  yet  I  gained  more  from  his  society  in  the  last  six  months  of  his 
existence,  than  1  had  for  many  preceding  years.  His  gradual  decline, 
at  length,  rapidly  advanced  ;  suddenly  he  became  too  much  enfeebled  to 
go  abroad  ;  his  friends,  who  were  numerous,  visited  him  frequently. 
Mr.  Little,  and  lady,  were  almost  constantly  with  him  :  they  congratu- 
lated him,  that  God  had  heard  his  prayers,  and  given  him  a  son  to  sup- 
ply his  place,  when  he  should  be  called  home  ;  this,  indeed,  he  consid- 
ered as  a  great  consolation.  Often  with  tears  of  pleasure  has  he  wept 
over  me,  solemnly  consecrating  me  by  fervent  prayer,  and  devout  sup- 
plication. His  devotional  exercises,  in  his  amily,  were  continued  until 
the  last  week  of  his  existence  ;  even  when  his  voice  was  so  low,  that 
he  could  scarce  articulate  a  word,  we  were  drawn  around  him,  when 
in  whispers,  as  it  were,  he  would,  in  the  most  moving  manner,  address 
the  throne  of  grace  in  our  behalf;  and  for  me,  as  his  first-born  son,  his 
orisons  were  still  more  frequently  offered  up,  and  always  with  tears. 
For  many  years  my  father  had  lost  his  apprehensions  of  death  ;  but  he 
always  suffered  more  or  less  in  the  dfead  of  dying.  The  taking  down 
the  house  of  his  earthly  tabernacle,1 — the  agonies  of  dissolving  nature, — 
these  anticipations  frequently  appalled  his  soul.  We  had  got  into  pas- 
sion week  ;  my  father  was  taken  from  his  bed  every  day,  until  Good 
Friday,  when  it  was  impressed  upon  his  mind,  that  he  should  be  with 
his  Redeemer  upon  Easter  Sunday,  He  indirectly  communicated 
this  assurance  to  my  mother  :  commanding  me  to  be  immediately  sum- 


36  LIVE    OF    KEY.  JOHN    MURRAY. 

moned  to  his  presence,  when  he  thus  addressed  me  :  "  My  son,  the 
object  of  my  soul's  affection,  for  whom,  during  many  years,   I   have 
wept  and  prayed,  you  see  your  weeping,  praying   father,  now  totally 
unable  to  utter  a  prayer,  nor  shall  I  ever  pray  in  this  dear  family  again. 
Let  me,  my  dear,  before  I  leave  you,  have  the  felicity  of  seeing,  and 
hearing  you  take  upon  you  the  character  you   will  very  speedily  be 
called  to  sustain  ;  let  me  hear  you  pray  in  the  family,  before  I   depart. 
There  was  something  terrible  in  the  thought  of  his    departure,  though 
we  had  for  many  years  been  taught  to  expect  it,  not  only  by  his  declin- 
ing health,  but  by  his  conversation,  which  had  rendered  us  familiar  with 
death.    I   cannot   remember  a   day,  on  which  he  did  not,  on  his  first 
appearance  in  his  family  of  a  morning,  say,  "  blessed  be  God,  we  are 
one  day  nearer  our  eternal  rest :"   yet  the  thought  of  assuming  his  place 
in  his  family,  in  his  presence  ;  this  \vas  more  terrible  to  me,  than  death 
itself.     I  became  convulsed,  a  cold  perspiration  was  diffused  over  my 
frame  ;  my  father  saw  my  agony,  and  bidding  me  sit  down,  took  my 
hand,  and  addressing  me  in  the  language  of  sympathy,  most  affection- 
ately, most  tenderly  said  ;  "  you  have,  my  poor  boy,  often  addressed 
your  heavenly  Father,  and  have  not  felt  abashed  :  ought  you  to  vener- 
ate your  feeble,  earthly  father,  more  than  the  God  who  made  you  ?    At 
the  throne  of  grace  I  am  upon  a  level  with  my  son,  and  I  need  redeem- 
ing mercy  as  much  as  yourself.   Let  me,  my  dear  child,  be  blessed  with 
the  privilege  of  seeing,  and  hearing  you,  in  your  new,  and  highly  re- 
sponsible character,  this  night."     I  was  dumb,  I  could  not  speak  :  my 
mother  was  requested  to  summon  the  family.    "  Come,"  said  my  father, 
"  come  near  me,  my  children.    God  is  about  to  remove  from  you  your 
father,  your  supplicating  father  ;  but  my  God,  your  God,  will  never 
leave  you,  nor  forsake  you.    He  will  give  you,  in  your  brother,  a  friend, 
a  guide,  a  father  ;  you  must  consider  him,  when  I  am  gone,  as  in  my 
stead  ;  you  will  unite  with  him  in  prayer,  you  will  follow  his  direction, 
and  God  will  abundantly  bless  you  together.       My  prayers  on  his  be- 
half are  graciously   answered  ;  they  will,  my  beloved  children,  be  an- 
swered on  your  behalf  also  ;  for   HE,  who  hath   promised,  is  faithful, 
your  father  hath  proved  HIM  faithful.     Our  God  is  indeed  worthy  to  be 
trusted,   HIS  service  is  perfect  freedom;  serve  the  Lord,  my  children, 
and  be  happy  ;  obey  your  dear  mother,  strengthen   the   hands  of  your 
brother,  and  felicity  will  be  your  portion."     He  would  have  proceeded, 
but  weakness  prevented  ;  recovering   himself,   he    called  upon   me   to 
make  good  his  expectations  ;   I  kneeled   down  by  his  bedside  in  con- 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  37 

vulsive  agony,  my  mother  kneeling  upon  the  opposite  side  ;  my  broth- 
ers and  sisters  forming  a  circle  which  surrounded  it,  while  the  domes- 
tics kneeled  near  us.  I  prayed,  I  wept,  I  audibly  sobbed  :  while  my, 
only  not  divine,  father,  was  in  ecstacy.  When  I  had  finished,  "  Now, 
O  Lord,"  he  exclaimed.  "  let  thy  servant  depart  in  peace,  for  mine  eyes 
have  seen,  for  my  ears  have  heard,  for  my  heart  has  felt,  thy  salvation. 
Come  near  me,  my  darling  boy."  Instantly  I  ran,  and  again  I  kneeled  by 
his  bedside  ;  he  drew  my  head  to  his  bosom,  he  wept  over  me,  but  his 
tears  were  tears  of  transport,  when,  laying  his  dying  hand  upon  my 
head,  he  thus  fervently  supplicated  :  "  O  thou,  Almighty  God,  who 
hath  thus  blessed,  greatly  blessed  thy  poor  servant :  Thou  who  hast 
been  my  God,  and  my  guide,  even  unto  death,  bless,  oh  1  bless  this 
son,  with  whom  thou  hast  blessed  thy  feeble  supplicant :  Give  him 
thy  supporting  presence  through  life,  direct  him  in  the  way  he  should 
go,  and  never  leave  him,  nor  forsake  him  :  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 
thou  covenant- keeping  God,  bless,  bless,  O  !  bless  this  lad — "  Here  his 
heart  swelled  too  big  for  utterance  ;  after  a  few  moments,  recovering 
himself  a  little,  he  mildly  requested  me  to  place  him  properly  in  his 
bed.  x  I  was  beyond  measure  shocked  to  see  what  a  skeleton  he  had 
become,  his  bones  in  many  places  through  his  skin.  It  was  my  wish 
to  tarry  with  him  through  the  night,  but  I  could  not  obtain  permission. 
"  Go,  my  dear  son,"  said  he,  "  go  to  rest,  and  the  God  of  your  fathers 
be  ever  with  you."  This  was  the  last  time  I  ever  heard  his  voice  ;  be- 
fore the  morning  dawned,  I  was  summoned  to  attend  not  a  dying,' but 
a  deceased  parent,  whose  value,  until  that  agonizing  moment,  I  had 
never  sufficiently  appreciated.  My  mother  continued  by  his  bedside, 
overwhelmed  by  sorrow  ;  the  slumbers  of  my  father  were  sweet, 
calm,  and  unbroken,  until  near  midnight,  when  she  perceived  he  was 
awake,  and  believing  him  to  be  speaking,  she  inclined  her  ear  to  his 
lips,  and  heard  him  say,  while  his  heart,  his  full  heart,  seemed  nearly 
bursting  :  "  The  souls  of  believers  are  at  their  death  made  perfectly 
holy,  and  do  immediately  pass  into  glory  ;  but  their  bodies,  being  still 
united  to  Christ,  do  rest  in  their  graves  till  the  resurrection."  After  a 
pause,  he  resumed  :  "  At  the  resurrection,  they  shall  be  openly  ac- 
knowledged, and  acquitted  in  the  day  of  judgment,  and  made  perfectly 
blessed  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  God  through  eternity  :  Blessed,  per- 
fectly bless — ."  Blessed  he  would  have  said,  but  he  breathed  no  more. 
When  I  approached  the  bed  of  death,  1  beheld  the  remains  of  the  do- 
parted  saint,  precisely  in  the  position  in  which  a  few  hours  before  I 


38  1IFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

had  placed  him.  Not  a  single  struggle  had  the  dear,  apprehensive  maa, 
during  those  expiring  moments,  which,  through  his  whole  life,  he  had 
expected  would  be  productive  of  such  extreme  torture.  He  slept  in 
Jesus,  in  full  confidence  of  a  glorious  Resurrection. 

From  this  hour,  until  the  interment,  our  house  was  thronged  ;  but  of 
all  our  numerous  friends,  who  by  their  presence  expressed  their  sympa- 
thy, no  individuals  appeared  more  deeply  affected  than  my  future  pat- 
rons, Mr.  and  Mrs.  Little.  My  father  was  very  dear  to  Mr.  Little  ; 
he  mingled  his  tears  with  the  widow,  and  her  orphans.  It  was  unnec- 
essary to  tell  me  I  had  sustained  an  irreparable  loss,  my  heart,  my 
pierced  heart,  was  every  moment  making  the  avowal  ;  I  could  now  ful- 
ly appreciate  my  father's  worth  ;  I  felt  I  was  bereaved,  miserably  be- 
reaved ;  left  to  myself,  and  I  knew  myself  well  enough  to  justify  the 
most  spirit- wounding  apprehensions.  I  retired  to  my  chamber,  to  my 
closet,  secretly  indulging  my  overwhelming  sorrow,  and  if  I  ever  ex- 
perienced the  fervour  of  devotion,  it  was  then,  when,  throwing  abroad 
my  supplicating  hands,  I  petitioned  the  God  of  my  father  to  be  my 
God  also,  entreating  that  he  would  graciously  vouchsafe  to  preserve  me 
from  myself,  my  sinful  self:  all  the  hard,  undutiful  reflections,  which  I 
had  secretly  tolerated  against  this  good,  this  honoured  man,  while  he 
was  enduring  exquisite  sufferings  for  the  purpose  of  preserving  me  from 
evil,  rushed  upon  my  recollection,  and  an  innate  monitor  seemed  to 
say:  "  You  may  now,  ungrateful  boy,  go  where  you  please  ;  the  prying 
eye  of  a  father  will  no  more  inspect  your  conduct."  It  was  now,  in 
these  moments  of  torture,  that  my  father,  as  it  should  seem,  first  be- 
came known  to  me.  It  is  true,  he  was  severely  good,  his  conscience 
was  indeed  sorely  tender  ;  but,  as  far  as  he  knew,  he  performed  the  will 
of  God,  at  least  in  as  great  a  measure  as  he  was  able,  and  when  he  be- 
„  lieved  himself  deficient,  as  he  almost  always  did,  it  gave  him  great  pain. 
The  uniform  sanctity  of  his  life  commanded  the  respect,  the  esteem, 
the  affection,  and  even  the  veneration  of  all  who  knew  him.  He  pos- 
sessed an  uncommon  share  of  natural  abilities,  and  his  acquirements 
were  very  respectable.  He  had  read  much  ;  History,  Natural  Philoso- 
phy, Poetry,  these  were  all  familiar  to  him  ;  but  the  sacred  Scriptures, 
and  books  of  devotion,  were  his  delight.  Human  productions  con- 
stituted his  amusement,  but  the  word  of  his  God  was  his  food.  He 
was  so  acute  a  reasoner,  that  it  was  difficult  to  gain  any  advantage  over 
him  in  argument;  yet  he  was  easily  piovoked,  but  immediately  sensible 
of  error  ;  every  deviation  from  propriety  was  marked  by  tears.  He 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  39 

had  so  much  self-command,  as  never  to  strike  a  child  in  a  passion,  this 
he  denominated  a  demoniac  sacrifice  ;  he  would  first  correct  the  an- 
gry man  :  but  however  painful  the  act,  he  never  omitted  what  he  con- 
ceived it  his  duty  to  bestow.  He  was  a  very  tender-hearted  man,  and 
his  piayers  were  rarely  unaccompanied  by  tears.  He  mourned  with 
the  mourner,  for  he  was  himself  a  man  of  sorrow.  Being  for  the  last 
nineteen  years  of  his  life  a  confirmed  invalid,  he  was  constantly,  and 
fervently  looking  toward  his  heavenly  home — sometimes  with  impa- 
tience,  when,  correcting  himself,  he  would  say,  "  Well,  well,  Heaven 
is  worth  waiting  for  :  one  hour,  passed  in  the  courts  of  my  God,  will 
be  a  rich  remuneration  for  all  terrestrial  sufferings." 

It  is  the  custom  in  Ireland,  when  any  person  of  distinction  or  re- 
spectability is  called  out  of  time,  to  watch  around  their  remains,  night 
as  well  as  day,  until  the  body  be  entombed.  The  remains  of  my  fath- 
er were  affectionately  attended,  but  they  were  attended  in  an  uncom- 
mon manner  ;  as  he  differed  from  others  in  life,  so  these  last  honours 
differed  from  those  usually  bestowed.  The  morning  immediately  suc- 
ceeding his  demise,  our  friends  and  neighbours  assembled  in  our  dwel- 
ling, when  Mr.  Little  thus  addressed  them  :  "  My  friends,  it  hath 
pleased  God  to  take  unto  himself  the  soul  of  our  beloved  brother;  as  he 
lived,  so  he  died,  a  pattern  of  excellence ;  we  know,  vrefeel,  that  he  has 
not  left  his  equal.  We  unite  with  this  dear  family  in  sensibly  lament- 
ing the  departure  of  our  experienced  friend,  our  guide,  our  comforter." 
Here  he  mingled  his  tears  with  those  of  our  attendant  friends.  After  a 
long  pause,  he  proceeded  :  "  Fellow  mourners,  the  greatest  respect  we 
can  pay  to  the  remains  of  our  inestimable,  our  heavenly  guide,  is  to 
pass  our  time  together  in  this  house  of  mourning,  not  for  him,  but  for 
ourselves,  in  the  way  which  would  be  most  pleasing  to  him,  were  he 
present  ;  we  will  therefore  appropriate  our  hours  to  reading,  and  to 
prayer.  One  of  our  brethren  will  address  the  throne  of  grace,  after 
which  I  will  read  a  sermon,  the  production  of  Mr.  Erskine,  of  whose 
writings  the  dear  departed  was  remarkably  fond."  The  prayer,  the 
sermon,  the  concluding  prayer,  deeply  affected  every  one  ;  and  the 
evening  witnessed  a  renewal  of  these  pious  exercises.  Thus  were  our 
nights  and  days  devoted,  until  the  interment.  On  that  day  the  throng 
was  prodigious.  *The  worth,  the  good  actions  of  my  father,  were  the 
theme  of  many  a  tongue  ;  his  praises  were  echoed,  and  re-echoed, 
while  tears  of  sorrow  moistened  many  an  eye.  Every  one  bore  in  his, 
or  her  hand,  to  the  grave-yu.  t,  a  sprig  of  bays,  which,  after  the  body 


40  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

was  deposited,  was  thrown  over  the  coffin.  But  no  word.s  can  describe 
my  agonizing,  my  terrific  sensations,  when  I  reflected  upon  the  charge 
which  had  devolved  upon  me.  I  remembered  my  father's  words,  on 
the  evening  preceding  his  exit,  and  I  felt  myself  reduced  to  the  neces- 
sity of  assuming  his  place  in  the  family  ;  but  how  much  was  I  to  suf- 
fer by  comparison  with  him,  whose  place  I  was  appointed  to  fill :  yet, 
had  T  wished  to  avoid  entering  upon  my  office,  my  mother,  the  friends 
of  my  father,  would  have  borne  testimony  against  me.  They  throng- 
ed around  me,  they  entreated  me  immediately  to  take  charge  of  the 
family,  and  to  commence  my  arduous  task  by  devout  supplications  to 
Almighty  God.  I  complied  with  their  united  wishes  ;  but  no  tongue 
can  utter,  no  language  can  delineate  the  strong  emotions  of  my  soul : 
again  I  was  convulsed,  again  I  agonized  ;  the  whole  family  were  inex- 
pressibly affected.  It  was  the  most  melancholy  evening  I  had  ever  ex- 
perienced ;  but  my  benighted  spirit  was  suddenly  refreshed,  by  a  ray 
of  consolation,  emitted  by  the  cheering  hope,  that  my  father's  God  would 
be  my  God,  and  that  the  fervent  prayers  he  had  offered  up,  in  my  be- 
half, would  be  answered  in  my  favour.  I  was  encouraged  too  by  my 
mother,  and  by  the  friends  of  my  father,  who  besought  the  Lord  in  my 
behalf,  and  who  were  daily  reminding  me  of  the  interest,  which  my  de- 
ceased parent  unquestionably  had  with  the  prayer-hearing  God. 

Yet,  although  soothed,  and  greatly  stimulated,  my  new  employment 
continued  to  distress,  and  appal  my  spirit.  The  conviction  of  every 
day  assured  me,  that  I  was  unequal  to  the  arduous  task  I  had  under- 
taken. My  mother  was  my  ever-ready  aid  and  counsellor  ;  but  my 
brothers  and  sisters  always  remembered,  that  I  was  not  their  father  ; 
and  they  were  highly  displeased,  whenever  I  presumed  to  exercise 
over  them  paternal  authority  ;  yet  this  I  believed  to  be  my  duty,  and, 
that  I  might  be  in  every  thing  like  my  father,  I  took  up  the  rod  of  cor- 
rection, seriou3ly  chastising  my  brother,  for  the  purpose  of  restoring 
him  to  the  narrow  path,  from  which  he  had  wandered.  But,  although 
I  had  learned  of  my  father  to  use  the  rod,  I  never  could  make  it  answer 
the  same  purpose  ;  in  my  hand,  it  only  served  to  increase  the  evil,  it 
became  the  signal  of  revolt ;  and,  while  my  brother  continued  incorrigi- 
ble, my  other  brothers,  and  my  sisters,  enlisted  on  his  side.  My  mother, 
dear  honoured  sufferer,  was  exceedingly  distressed  ;  she  had  in  fact  a 
difficult  part  to  act ;  she  was  fearful,  whichever  side  she  might  espouse, 
would,  by  creating  new  irritation,  make  bad,  worse,  and  yet,  upon  an 
occasion  ^o  interesting,  we  would  not  allow  her  to  be  silent,  she  must 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  41 

positively  attend  to  our  appeals.  But  however  arduous  her  task,  she 
possessed  discretion  sufficient  to  meet  it,  and  to  produce  an  ultimatum 
completely  satisfactory  to  all  parties. 

She  replied  to  our  remonstrances,  by  a  request  to  be  allowed  until 
the  evening,  succeeding  our  complaints,  for  serious  deliberation.  The 
interesting  evening  came.  "  Come,  my  children,  all  equally  dear  to  my 
soul:  come,  the  doors  are  now  shut ;  this  is  the  time  of  evening  ser- 
vice. There  is  the  chair,  which  your  pious,  your  aiFectionate  father, 
once  filled.  Can  you  not  remember  the  last  time  he  addressed  you 
from  that  seat.  Let  me,  my  dear  children,  let  me  repeat,  as  well  as 
my  memory  will  permit,  what  he  said  to  us  the  last  time  he  addressed 
ns  from  that  chair.  "  Come,"  said  he,  "  come  near  me,  my  children," 
when,  folding  his  arms  around  your  elder  brother,  and  pressing  him  to 
his  bosom,  while  shedding  over  him  abundance  of  tears,  and  pouring 
out  his  soul  in  supplication  for  him,  he  most  affectingly  said  :  "  I  am, 
my  dear  child,  hastening  to  that  heaven,  for  which  I  have  so  long  wait- 
ed. For  you,  ever  since  you  were  born,  I  have  wept  and  prayed  ; 
graciously  hath  my  God  inclined  his  ear  to  the  voice  of  my  supplica- 
tion. He  hath  blessed  me,  by  giving  me  to  see  you,  before  I  die,  pre- 
pared, by  divine  favour,  to  take  my  place  ;  I  leave  you  iny  dear  son, 
to  act  a  father's  part,  when  I  shall  be  here  no  more  ;  let  your  mother, 
your  brothers,  and  your  sisters,  receive  from  you  that  attention,  and 
care,  they  can  no  more  obtain  from  me  ;  but,  although  I  shall  be  no 
more  with  you,  your  God,  your  father's  God,  will  never  leave  nor  for- 
sake you.  Nay,  my  own  beatified  spirit  may  obtain  increasing  felicity, 
by  being  sometimes  permitted  to  behold  the  order,  and  harmony  of  my 
beloved  family,  while  collected  before  the  throne  of  grace,  with  the 
love  of  God,  and  love  of  each  other,  glowing  with  divine  ecstacy  in 
every  bosom."  It  was  then,  my  precious  children,  that  your  devout 
father  clasped  you  separately  to  his  bosom  ;  you  remember  how  he 
then  spake  to  you  :  "  I  go,  my  beloved  children  ;  you  will  no  more 
hear  my  voice  from  this  chair  :  1  shall  no  more  be  able  to  pray  with 
you,  to  advise,  or  to  direct  you.  But,  iny  children,  I  leave  with  you  a 
brother,  who  will  perform  to  you  the  part  of  a  father  ;  I  leave  him  in 
my  place  ;  it  is  my  command,  that  he  tread  in  my  steps,  as  far  as  1  have 
proceeded  in  the  path  of  justice  ;  and,  my  dear  children,  I  conj;u\  \ru 
to  attend  to  his  directions.  The  eldest  son  was,  of  old,  the  priest  in 
the  family  of  his  father  ;  and  if  you  love  me,  if  you  love  your  mother, 
if  you  would  prove  vour  love  to  God,  or  even  to  your-clves.  contribute 


42  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

all  in  your  power  to  strengthen  the  hands  of  your  brother."  You  re- 
member  he  then  embraced  eacli  of  you,  and  wept  over  you  ;  and  I 
pray  you  to  remember,  that  you  then  solemnly  promised,  to  perform 
all  which  your  dying  father  directed  you  to  perform.  Perhaps  the 
saint  may  be  at  this  moment  beholding  us,  in  this  very  spot,  in 
which,  a  few  days  previous  to  his  departure  out  of  time,  he  so  affecting- 
ly,  so  tenderly  admonished  us "  My  mother  paused,  as  if  influ- 
enced by  sacred  awe  of  the  presence  she  had  supposed.  We  audibly 
wept  ;  we  rushed  into  each  other's  arms,  we  embraced  each  other,  and 
so  long  as  we  continued  together,  our  affection,  our  piety,  and  our 
devotion  were  uninterrupted. 


CHAPTER  II. 

-Record  continued,  until  the  Author  s  Departure  from  Ireland. 

Launched  from  the  shore,  on  life's  rough  ocean  tost, 
To  my  swol'n  eye  my  star  of  guidance  lost ; 
Torn,  from  my  grasp,  my  path-directing  helm, 
While  waves,  succeeding  waves,  my  prospects  whelm. 

IjTVY  the  malpractices  of  the  second  husband  of  my  maternal  grand- 
mother, a  large  share  of  my  mother's  patrimony  passed  into  other 
hands.  I  accidentally  obtained  intelligence  of  some  fraudulent  pro- 
ceedings of  the  great  personage,  by  whom  it  was  then  holden.  We 
did  not  possess  ability  to  support  a  prosecution  for  the  recovery  of  our 
rights.  Some  time  after  the  demise  of  my  father,  the  person,  who  re- 
sided upon  the  estate,  was  sued  for  rent  ;  to  this  person  I  communicat- 
ed in  confidence,  what  I  knew  to  be  fact.  I  assured  him,  the  great 
man,  who  retained  the  estate,  had  no  legal  claim  to  it  ;  and  I  advised 
him  not  to  pay  the  rent.  He  followed  my  advice,  and  the  business  came 
before  a  court  of  judicature.  The  gentleman,  who  sued  the  tenant, 
summoned  me,  as  a  witness,  to  prove,  that  the  tenant  had  occupied  the 
house  the  specified  number  of  years  ;  thus  I  wai  unexpectedly  present 
at  the  trial,  and  the  interference  of  providence  produced  a  result,  far 
beyond  our  most  sanguine  expectations.  The  tenant  denied  the  right 
of  the  landlord  to  demand  the  rent,  alleging,  that  if  he  paid  it  to  him, 
he  might  hereafter  be  compelled  to  pay  it  to  another.  "  To  whom  ?" 
interrogated  the  court.  "  To  Mrs.  Murray  and  her  children,  to  whom 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  43 

the  estate  in  question  properly  belongs."     I  was  then  called  upon  for 
an  explanation,  and  I  boldly   pledged    myself  to  prove  the  truth  of  the 
testimony  delivered   by  the   tenant  ;  adding  that  I  could  make  such  a 
statement,  as  would  render  the  affair  abundantly  clear  to  their  Honours. 
I  was  immediately  silenced,  by  the   lawyers  upon  the  opposite  side, 
who  produced  a  deed  of  the  contested    property,   signed,  sealed,  and 
delivered  ;  I  then  requested  the  indulgence  of  the  honourable   court, 
while   I  observed,  that,  as   I   was  not  sufficiently  opulent  to  procure 
eouncil,  I  presumed  to  solicit  permission  to  plead  my  own  cause.    Full 
consent  was  unhesitatingly  granted  ;  when  I  proved,  to  the  satisfaction 
of  the  court,  and  jury,  that  this  deed  was  signed,   after  the  death  of  the 
husband  of  my  grandmother  ;   and  farther,  that,  had  the  man  been  liv- 
ing, the  right  of  disposal  was    not  vested  in  him.      I  consumed  a  full 
hour  and  a  half,  in  unfolding  a  scene  of  wickedness,  not  to  be  defend- 
ed ;  and  I  closed,  by  grateful  acknowledgments  to  their  honours,  for 
the  patience  they  had  exercised.     The  jury  retired,  and  speedily  re- 
turned with  a  verdict  in  favour  of  the  tenant.     I  immediately  entered 
my  claim,  and  a  trial  commenced,  which  terminated  in  my  favour  ;  and 
I  not  only  obtained  the  house  in  question,  but  two  others,  in  like  cir- 
cumstances, to  the  no  small  satisfaction  of  the  public,  and  the  mortifi- 
cation of  the  great  man,  and  his  lawyers.     We   immediately  took  pos- 
session of  the  house  ;  and  our  utmost  gratitude  to  that  God,   who  had 
interposed  for   us,  was  most  powerfully  excited.     Here  I  had  a  very 
large,  and,  in  no  long  time,  a  very  well   improved  garden  ;  abounding 
with  everything  useful,  and  beautiful  ;  herbs,   fruits,   and   flowers,  in 
great  abundance  ;  and  my  situation  was  fully  adequate  to  my  wishes. 
Harmony  presided  in  our  family  ;  but,  alas  !  gradually,  as  by  common 
consent,  we  grew  more  careless  of  our  domestic  duties,  and  more  atten- 
tive to  public  affairs  :  deriving  a  kind  of  amusement  from    what  was 
passing  abroad,  which  we  could  not  obtain  at  home.     We  had  many 
visitors,   and   consequently   we  frequently  visited  ;  yet  no  individuals 
were  so  dear  to  us,  as  were  Mr.  Little,  and  his  amiable  family.    I  have 
repeatedly  observed,  that  both    Mr.  Little,  and  his  lady,  had,  from  the 
death  of  their  sons,  regarded  me   even   with  parental  affection  ;   I  was 
only  not  an  inmate  in  their  dwelling  ;  and  but  for  the  charge,  which  the 
demise  of  my  father  had  devolved  upon   me,  they  would  not  so  long 
have  delayed  proposals,  which,  in   a  most  serious   manner,  they  ulti- 
mately made  to  my  mother.     Mr.  Little  was  rather  advanced  in  years  ; 
he  commenced  his  career  without  property,  but  he  was  prudent,  and 


1  \  1-IFF.  OF  REV.  JOHN   MURRAY. 

industrious  ;  his  lady  was  equally  so  :  she  brought  her  husband  no 
more  than  one  hundred  pounds  sterling,  but  she  was  a  portion  in  her- 
self. Although  uncommonly  economical,  and  careful,  her  charities 
were  yet  very  extensive  ;  she  could  assist,  she  observed,  the  children  of 
penury,  without  loss  ;  for  her  resource  was  her  own  augmented  indus- 
try. When  this  amiable  couple  became  known  to  us,  they  possessed 
immense  wealth  ;  and  they  had  now  but  two  surviving  children — 
daughters.  We  were  passing  a  pleasant  evening  in  their  hospitable 
dwelling,  throwing  the  eye  of  retrospection  over  past  scenes,  until  our 
hearts  were  greatly  softened.  The  departed  sons,  the  deceased  hus- 
band, and  father,  passed  in  review  ;  and  were  alternately  the  subjects 
of  conversation,  and  regret.  At  length,  Mr.  Little  thus  addressed  us  : 
"  I  have  lost  my  sons,  and  I  have  long  viewed  you,  my  young  friend, 
in  the  stead  of  my  buried  children  :  It  is  true,  I  have  many  nephews, 
and  I  am  urgently  solicited,  to  receive  one  of  them  under  my  roof  ; 
but  I  do  not  feel  a  freedom  so  to  do,  although  I  must  absolutely  have 
some  one  to  assist  me  in  the  arrangement  of  my  affairs  :  and  I  now 
tender  to  you,  my  dear  young  man,  to  you,  who  have  so  long  been  be- 
loved by  every  individual  of  my  family  ;  I  offer  to  you,  the  place  of  a 
son  in  my  house,  in  my  heart.  And  if  you,  madam,  will  consent  ;  and 
your  son,  thus  sanctioned,  will  accept  my  proposal,  he  shall  immedi- 
ately take  possession  of  the  apartment  of  his  deceased  friend  (my  la- 
mented son,)  and  I  shall  bless  God  for  thus  making  up  my  loss." 
Mrs.  Little,  who  sat  by  bathed  in  tears,  most  cordially  united  her  solic- 
itations :  the  offer  was  too  great  to  be  rejected,  we  accepted  it  ^\  ith 
becoming  gratitude,  and,  what  rendered  a  proposal  so  liberal  abundant- 
ly more  pleasing,  was  an  appearance,  on  the  part  of  our  benefactors,  ot 
having  received,  instead  of  conferred  an  obligation.  I  attended  my 
mother  home,  with  mingled  sensations  of  pain,  and  pleasure  ;  pain 
from  the  consideration,  that  I  was  leaving  a  family,  which  I  had  been 
accustomed  to  view  as,  in  a  very  tender  sense,  my  own  ;  and  with 
which  I  should  never  perhaps  in  like  manner  again  associate  ;  pleasure, 
from  the  reflection,  that  I  was  entering  upon  a  new  scene  of  life,  from 
which  I  had  a  prospect,  not  only  of  independence,  but  affluence.  It  is 
true,  upon  my  departure,  which  took  place  upon  the  succeeding  morn- 
ing, I  wept  bitterly,  so  did  my  widowed  mother,  and  her  children  ; 
and  my  tears  again  flowed,  upon  entering  the  apartments  of  my  dear 
young  friend,  with  whom  1  had  passed  so  many  pleasing  hours.  But, 
received  by  my  new  parents,  and  sisters,  as  the  dearest  of  sons,  and  as 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAV.  45 

the  brother  of  their  affection.  Joy  soon  exhilirated  ray  spirits,  and 
brightened  upon  my  countenance  ;  I  had  the  warm  congratulations  of 
all  my  friends,  for  it  was  noised  abroad,  that  this  very  opulent  gentle- 
man had  adopted  me  as  his  son,  and  they  went  so  far  as  to  add,  his 
son,  and  heir.  All  this  was  very  pleasing  to  me,  but  the  kindred  of 
Mr.  Little,  were  of  course,  highly  irritated,  and  I  became  so  much  the 
object  of  their  envy,  and  their  hatred,  that,  whenever  they  visited  their 
uncle,  without  deigning  to  speak  to  me,  they  studiously  sought  oppor- 
tunities of  insulting  me.  This  gave  me  pain,  but  it  did  me  no  real  in- 
jury ;  for,  upon  every  instance  of  invidious  conduct  toward  me,  my 
parental  friends,  and  their  family,  especially  their  daughters,  studiously 
augmented  their  testimonies  of  esteem  and  affection. 

After  I  had  passed  some  months  with  Mr.  Little,  he  was  visited  by 
a  young  preacher,  just  entering  the  sacerdotal  character,  to  whom  I 
was  much  attached,  and  our  friendship  was  mutual  ;  I  was  prevailed 
upon  by  this  preacher,  to  accompany  him  upon  a  little  journey  ;  I  de- 
parted with  the  sanction  of  my  patron.  I  had,  in  the  societies  with 
which  I  Ijad  been  connected,  occasionally  exhorted  ;  and  I  had  been 
frequently  urged  by  several  of  their  preachers  to  aid  them  in  their  la- 
bours. Upon  this  journey  I  was,  if  I  may  so  express  myself,  absolute- 
ly ensnared  ;  accompanying  my  friend  to  the  assembled  congregation, 
with  an  expectation  of  hearing  him,  he  put  his  arm  under  mine,  and 
helping  me  to  ascend  the  temporary  pulpit,  erected  for  the  occasion, 
he  suddenly  quitted  me,  and  I  was  in  a  manner  constrained  to  speak 
to  the  multitude.  Thus,  for  the  first  time,  I  preached  to  a  large  con- 
course of  serious  and  attentive  hearers,  in  publick  ;  and,  although  at 
the  appointed  time  I  returned  to  my  much-loved  home,  I  continued, 
as  opportunity  offered,  from  that  time  forward,  preaching  whenever  I 
journeyed,  and  even  at  home,  when  necessitated  by  the  absence  of  the 
preacher.  This  made  some  noise  in  our  little  world  ;  but,  as  it  was  not 
displeasing  to  my  honoured  friends,  I  was  not  dissatisfied.  My  in- 
veterate enemies,  however,  being  the  nearest  relations  of  the  family  in 
which  I  resided,  were  constantly  endeavouring  to  undermine  my  inter- 
est in  the  heart  of  their  kiiisman.  I  was  to  pass  some  time  in  a  neigh- 
bouring city,  and  to  render  my  visit  more  pleasing,  my  patron,  at  my 
departure,  furnished  me  with  a  sum  of  money  ;  this  sum  I  carelessly 
put  into  my  pocket,  without  examination,  until  calling  in  my  wray, 
upon  my  mother,  I  discovered,  that  my  patron  had,  as  I  supposed^ 
made  a  capital  mistake  ;  that  he  had  given  me  gold,  instead  of  silver. 
G 


46  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

I  mentioned  this  circumstance  to  my  mother,  in  presence  of  one  of  her 
neighbours  ;  and  without  announcing  my  design,  I  immediately  re- 
turned home,  for  the  purpose  of  rectifying  the  error.  Upon  my  unex- 
pected appearance  before  Mr.  Little,  with  information  of  his  mistake, 
he  smiled,  and  said,  that  he  never  kept  kis  gold  and  silver  together. 
"  It  was  my  design,"  said  he,  "  to  give  you  gold,  but  I  advise  you  not 
to  throw  it  away."  I  pursued  my  journey,  and  passed  my  time  agreea- 
bly ;  but  whether  I  threw  away  the  bounty  of  my  benelactor,  I  do  not, 
at  this  period,  recollect,  I  only  know  that  I  brought  not  a  shilling  home 
with  me  :  In  fact,  I  was  never  sufficiently  sensible  of  the  value  of  mo- 
ney, to  retain  it  in  my  possession.  I  was  received,  on  my  return  from 
this  visit,  with  uncommon  pleasure  ;  and  some  time  alter,  my  kind  pat- 
ron, taking  me  into  his  private  apartment,  thus  addressed  me :  "  I  need 
not,  my  dear,  inform  you,  that  you  have  many  enemies,  and  I  regret  to 
say,  that  those  enemies  are  among  my  nearest  relatives  ;  but,  continuing 
in  the  paths  of  rectitude,  you  will  be  beyond  the  reach  of  their  most 
malignant  calumnies.  Soon  after  you  left  home  the  other  day,  the 
clergyman,  who  has  recently  become  the  husband  of  my  niece,  called 
upon  me,  requesting  a  private  audience  ;  and  when  retired  into  this 
room,  he  observed,  that  he  conceived  himself  in  duty  bound  to  ap- 
prize me,  that  I  was  not  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  character  of 
the  person  I  had  adopted ;  that  he  was  not  honest  ;  that  he  had  obtained 
money  from  me,  to  which  he  had  no  right.  "  You  gave  him,  sir,  as 
you  believed,  some  pieces  of  silver,  but  upon  examination  they  proved 
to  be  guineas  ;  this  fact  I  can  prove  ;  and  if  he  could  thus  act,  what 
may  he  not  do  ?"  I  told  this  officious  gentleman,  that  I  had  really  in- 
tended to  give  you  gold  ;  but  that  you,  conceiving  I  had  made  a  mis- 
take, forbore  to  appropriate  the  money,  and  speedily  returned  home,  for 
the  purpose  of  making  the  communication.  Our  clergyman  departed, 
and  you  will  easily  conceive,  not  a  little  humbled.  I  mention  this  cir- 
cumstance to  you,  my  son,  to  put  you  upon  your  guard.  It  is  my 
wish,  that,  in  future,  you  should  not  be  so  communicative."  This  lit- 
tle anecdote  was  exultingly  repeated  to  me  by  the  good  lady,  and  her 
daughters,  who  never  failed  triumphantly  to  report  every  little  occur- 
rence, which  they  believed  would  contribute,  either  to  my  pleasure,  or 
my  reputation. 

My  establishment  in  this  family  rendered  me  an  object  of  envy,  even 
among  some  of  my  religious  connexions.  Objections  were  raised 
against  my  supposed  erroneous  sentiments  ;  I  was  more  than  suspected 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  47 

of  retaining  my  father's  Calvinistic  doctrines.  Mr.  Wesley  received  in-  « 
formation  against  me.  He  set  a  watch  over  me  ;  thus  fixing  upon  me 
the  evil  eye  of  suspicion.  A  maiden  sister,  considerably  advanced  in 
years,  became  a  dependent  resident  in  the  family  of  her  brother.  Her 
character  was  marked  by  duplicity,  and  she  delighted  in  mischief.  The 
tales  she  propagated  were  as  various,  as  the  parties  which  listened  to 
her  narrations  ;  and  all  her  communications  were  made  under  the  ) 
strict  seal  of  secrecy.  Young,  and  unsuspecting,  I  found  it  difficult 
to  encounter  enemies  of  such  opposite  descriptions.  I  had  some 
friends,  of  whose  affection  I  doubted  not  ;  with  these  friends  I  passed 
much  time,  and  I  communicated  to  them  every  thing,  and  they,  in 
their  turn,  communicated  every  thing  to  me  ;  while  many  circum- 
stances, thus  confided,  were,  to  rny  great  astonishment,  in  circulation  ! 
My  situation  became  uneasy  to  me  ;  I  was  fond  of  being  in  company 
abroad,  this  was  very  disagreeable  to  my  friends  at  home  ;  they  expected 
in  me  a  friend  and  companion,  who  would,  by  reading  and  conversa- 
tion, give  to  their  fireside  new  charms  ;  and  both  parents,  and  daughters, 
were  mortified  and  disappointed.  Mr.  Little  expressed  his  disappro- 
bation of  my  frequent  absences.  I  was  hurt,  Mrs.  Little  shed  tears, 
and  entreated  me  to  change  my  conduct.  "  You  have,"  said  she,  "  in 
this  wide  world  no  such  friends,  as  we  are  disposed  to  prove  ourselves  : 
you  will  be  abundantly  more  happy  at  home,  than  you  can  be  abroad. 
You  should  supply  to  us  the  place  of  our  deceased  children  :  we  ex- 
pect consolation  from  your  society.  You  are  greatly  beloved  in  this 
house ;  your  enemies  are  not  under  this  roof.  For  God's  sake,  i  f 
you  have  any  regard  for  us,  if  you  have  any  regard  for  any  of  your 
friends,  if  you  would  secure  your  own  happiness,  or  the  happiness  of 
your  mother,  do  not  thus  conduct."  Thus,  with  many  entreaties,  did 
this  dear,  affectionate  lady,  endeavour  to  arrest  my  wanderings  ;  and, 
while  attending  to  her  friendly  lecture  .,  my  best  resolutions  were  in 
full  force  ;  and  I  determined  never  to  offend  again.  But  going  out  to 
meeting,  one,  and  another,  of  my  religious  connexions  would  take  me 
by  the  arm  ;  I  could  not  avoid  engagements  ;  and  when  I  returned 
home,  every  individual  of  the  family,  Miss  Little  excepted,  had  fre- 
quently retired  to  rest.  The  good  girl  waited  to  apprize  me  of  her 
father's  displeasure.  Much  did  she  expostulate  ;  and  her  expostula- 
tions were  not  always  unmingled  with  tears.  My  mother  was  rendered 
extremely  wretched  ;  I  saw  the  gathering  storm,  but  I  had  not  suffi- 
cient fortitude  to  abide  its  ravages.  My  enemies  derived  consolation 


48  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

from  my  indiscretion,  and  my  infelicities  daily  augmented.  Whenever 
I  was  censured,  I  was  rendered  more  abundantly  unhappy  ;  and  I  form- 
ed a  serious  resolution  to  quit  both  the  family  of  Mr.  Little,  and  the 
country,  and  to  seek  an  asylum  in  my  native  place — England.  For 
many  days  I  continued  obdurate,  no  remonstrances  could  influence  me;  I 
must  absolutely  commence  a  traveller — I  must  go  to  England.  I  had 
no  object,  yet  I  must  depart  for  England — I  could  not  tell  why,  indeed. 
It  was  believed.  I  was  distracted.  What,  relinquish  fortune,  and  such 
connexions,  and  such  a  prospect  ?  for  it  was  generally  believed,  that  I 
was  to  be  united  in  marriage  with  Miss  Little.  Nay,  her  father  was  in- 
formed, by  his  kindred,  that  I  was  absolutely  clandestinely  seeking  to 
gain  the  affection  of  the  young  lady  ;  and  that  they  believed  I  was  already 
in  possession  of  her  heart.  But  Mr.  Little  gave  no  credit  to  this  report ; 
he  knew,  that  my  evenings  were  passed  abroad,  and  that  this  was  the 
only  source  of  dissatisfaction.  It  happened,  however,  one  evening, 
when  I  had  been  out  late,  and  he,  according  to  custom,  retired  to  rest, 
I  found,  on  my  return  home,  Miss  Little  waiting  in  the  parlour,  for  the 
purpose  of  making  a  communication,  which  she  conceived  would  be  of 
consequence  to  me.  We  sat  some  time  in  a  conversation,  by  which  we 
w^re  mutually  interested  ;  she  made  known  to  me  the  invidious  remarks 
of  her  uncles,  and  aunts,  and  their  displeasure  at  her,  for  not  uniting 
with  them  in  their  sentiments  ;  she  dwelt  upon  the  grief,  which  my  in- 
attention to  the  wishes  of  her  parents  occasioned  them  ;  and,  upon 
this  part  of  her  subject,  she  became  affected  even  to  tears.  I  also  was 
greatly  affected,  and  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  taking  her  hand,  I 
impressed  upon  it  a  kiss  of  fraternal  affection  ;  when  to  our  great  as- 
tonishment, her  father  entered  the  apartment.  Had  we  seen  a  spectre, 
we  could  not  have  been  more  appalled.  He  stood  for  some  moments 
gpeechless,  until  fixing  his  eyes  indignantly  on  my  face,  which  was 
certainly  covered  with  confusion,  in  a  very  pointed  and  significant 
manner,  he  said,  "  So,  sir  ;"  and,  taking  his  daughter  by  the  hand,  he 
conducted  her  from  the  parlour,  leaving  me  to  my  own  reflections. 
Words  are  inadequate  to  a  description  of  my  agonies,  during  the  residue 
of  that  night.  An  idea  of  Miss  Little,  in  any  other  character  than  that 
of  a  very  dear  sister,  had  never  crossed  my  mind  ;  yet  suspicion  was 
now  furnished  with  a  weapon  against  me,  which  would  abundantly  en- 
force the  reports  retailed  to  Mr.  Little,  by  his  kindred.  I  have  often 
wondered,  that,  at  an  age  so  susceptible  of  impression,  I  did  not  be- 
come more  warmly  attached  to  Miss  Little  ;  she  was  a  most  lovely, 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  49 

and  amiable  young  woman  ;  and  she  certainly  gave  me  every  reason, 
which  a  modest,  delicate,  and  sensible  female  could  give,  to  believe  she 
was  not  absolutely  disinclined  to  listen  to  a  tale  of  love.  My  apathy 
can  only  be  accounted  for,  by  a  recurrence  to  an  unquestionable  fact ; 
my  heart  was  wholly  engrossed  by  my  religious  connexions.  I  passed 
this  memorable  night  in  my  chamber,  without  entering  my  bed.  I  de- 
scended the  stairs  in  the  morning,  with  the  feelings  of  a  malefactor  ;  I 
dreaded  the  sight  of  every  one  in  the  house.  Mr.  Little  saw  me,  but 
spake  not  to  me  ;  Mrs.  Little  addressed  me  in  the  language  of  kind- 
ness ;  their  daughter  was  not  present,  and  I  am  persuaded  she  was  not 
reduced  to  the  necessity  of  feigning  indisposition,  as  a  pretence  for 
absence.  After  breakfast  Mrs.  Little,  in  a  whisper,  directed  me  to  re- 
tire into  the  back  parlour,  where  she  would  speedily  join  me.  With 
trembling  dread  I  obeyed  ;  she  soon  appeared,  the  shutters  were  clos- 
ed, just  light  enough  to  see  her,  and  be  seen  by  her  ;  I  saw  she  had 
been  in  tears  ;  she  was  a  most  kind-hearted  lady.  I  could  not  speak, 
she  commanded  me  to  be  seated  :  I  drew  a  chair  for  her,  and  another 
for  myself  ;  she  sat  down,  and  I  seated  myself  by  her.  After  a  pause, 
slie  began  :  "  Tell  me,  I  conjure  you,  tell  me,  what  I  ought  to  under- 
stand by  the  appearances  of  this  morning  ?  answer  honestly  the  ques- 
tions I  shall  put  to  you  ;  but  I  know  your  answers  will  be  literally- 
true.  My  poor  girl  is  very  much  distressed  ;  her  father  is  very  reserv- 
ed, and  very^sad,  he  will  make  no  reply  to  my  inquiries,  and  my  child 
is  also  silent.  Tell  me,  I  repeat,  what  is  the  matter  ?"  I  came  home 
late  last  night,  madam  ;  no  one  was  up  but  Miss  Little,  who,  like  an 
affectionate  sister,  informed  me  she  had  something  to  communicate  to 
me,  with  which  I  ought  to  be  acquainted  :  I  listened  to  her,  till  I  be- 
came greatly  affected  with  what  I  heard,  and  deeply  sensible  of  her 
goodness  ;  wre  were  mingling  our  tears,  when  thus  thrown  off  my 
guard,  I  regret  to  say,  that  I  am  apprehensive  I  committed  an  unpar- 
donable offence  ;  I  am  mortified,  while  I  confess  to  you,  my  dear 
madam,  that  I  had  the  boldness  to  press  to  my  lips  the  dear  hand, 
which  seemed  extended  to  rescue  me  from  indiscretion  ;  but  indeed, 
my  dear  lady,  it  was  the  first  time  I  ever  dared  to  take  so  great  a  liber- 
ty, and  I  would  give  the  world  I  had  not  then  been  guilty  of  so  much 
temerity.  At  the  moment  Mr.  Little  entered,  I  felt  as  if  I  should  have 
sunk  under  his  indignant  glance  ;  Miss  Little  was  greatly  discompos- 
ed, while  her  father,  with  a  voice  rendered  tremulous  by  anger,  signifi- 
cantly said — "  So,  sir" — and  conducted  his  daughter  out  of  the  room. 


50  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

This,  my  dear  lady,  is  the  whole  I  know  of  the  matter  ;  1  fear,  Misa 
Little  will  never  forgive  me,  for  creating  her  so  much  distress  :  I  had 
infinitely  rather  be  dead,  than  alive  ;  I  dread  the  eye  of  Mr.  Little, 
and,  it  is  my  opinion,  I  ought  immediately  to  quit  your  hospitable 
mansion.  "  Alas  !  my  dear  child,  I  know  not  what  to  say  ;  you  be- 
lieve you  ought  to  quit  us  !  Would  to  God  you  had  never  thus  thought. 
This  persuasion  is  the  source  of  all  our  unhappiness  :  How  often 
have  I  told  you,  that  no  enemy  could  ever  injure  you,  if  your  own 
conduct  was  uniformly  correct.  You  have  deeply  wounded  a  heart 
that  loves  you.  I  promised  myself,  that  you  would  become  a  large 
addition  to  our  domestic  felicity.  But  you  are  appiehensive  you  have 
offended  beyond  forgiveness  !  Alas  !  my  daughter  is  more  distressed 
for  you,  than  for  herself  ;  you  know  not  how  much  she  has  suffered 
on  your  account ;  you  know  not  how  much  we  all  suffer  !  Why,  my 
dear  child,  will  you  thus  afflict  your  best  friends  ?"  I  am,  my  dear 
madam,  grieved  to  have  been  the  source  of  so  much  distress  to  persons 
so  dear  to  me  ;  but  I  shall  shortly  be  out  of  the  way  of  offending  any 
one.  "  What  do  you  mean  ?"  To  quit  this  house,  to  quit  this  coun- 
try. The  dear  lady  threw  her  maternal  arms  around  me,  and  wiih 
flowing  tears  interrogated  :  "  Is  it  thus  you  will  avoid  offending  us  ? 
Ah,  my  dear  child,  how  little  do  you  know  of  us,  or  of  yourself :  For 
God's  sake,  let  me  persuade  you  not  to  take  so  rash  a  step  !  Where 
would  you  go,  what  would  you  do  ?  Would  you  leave  a  home,  an 
envied  home,  and  thus,  while  you  afflicted  your  dearest  friends,  gratify 
your  malignant  foes  ?"  But,  my  dear  madam,  it  is  impossible  I  can 
continue  under  this  roof.  Mr.  Little  will  not  restore  me  his  confidence, 
my  felicity  in  this  family  is  fled,  forever  fled.  "  You  are  mistaken, 
your  happiness  rests  entirely  with  yourself;  be  but  uniformly  discreet, 
be  but  the  companion  we  expected,  when  we  adopted  you,  and  all  will 
yet  be  well."  But,  madam,  the  eye  and  ear  of  Mr.  Little  will  now  be 
open  against  me,  suspicion  will  be  on  the  alert,  and  he  will  accept  the 
*ales  of  my  enemies,  as  testimonies  of  sacred  writ.  "  Believe  it  not ; 
think  no  more  of  this  untoward  business  ;  you  have  but  one  enemy  who 
can  essentially  injure  you,  and  that  enemy  is  yourself.  I  will  be  respon- 
sible for  my  family  ;  you  shall  not  be  molested  in  this  house,  only  con- 
vince us,  that  you  love  us  ;  do  but  prove,  that  you  are  more  attached  to 
us,  than  to  any  other  individuals,  and  we  are  satisfied  :  Do  but  reflect, 
how  delightfully  we  might  pass  our  time  together.  The  business  oi 
the  day  closed,  and  we  assembled  in  the  parlour  •  you  with  your  book. 


LIFE  OF  RET.  JOHN  MURRAY.  5.1 

we  your  admiring  audience,  until  we  are  summoned  to  supper  ;  then, 
after  you  have  closed  our  serene  day  by  an  appropriate,  and  affecting 
address  to  the  God  who  created,  and  who  has  hitherto  preserved  us, 
we  retire  to  an  early  pillow,  soothed,  and  gratified,  our  sleep  cannot  but 
be  refreshing.  Why,  what  a  paradise  would  our  abode  become.  But, 
my  child,  when  you  pass  every  evening  abroad,  you  know  not  what  a 
melancholy  group  you  render  us.  We  are  dumb,  our  countenances  are 
*ud  ;  our  silence  is  sometimes  broken  by  Mr.  Little,  who  questions  in 
anger,  "  Where  is  our  young  gentleman  to-night  1  any  society  but 
ours  1"  Then  follows  a  heavy  sigh  :  "  Well,  let  us  go  to  bed,  it  will 
be  late  before  he  returns  ;  but  this  will  never  do."  We  dare  not  open 
our  lips,  but  my  girls  mingle  their  tears  with  mine.  Greatly  moved 
by  these  observations,  I  sincerely  repented  of  my  past  conduct  ;  and  I 
determined  I  would,  in  all  things,  conform  myself  to  the  wishes  of  my 
parental  friends.  I  beheld  the  family  picture  presented  before  me,  by 
the  dear  lady  ;  I  beheld  it  with  rapture,  and  I  decisively  said :  yes, 
indeed,  my  future  evenings  shall  all  be  devoted  to  a  family  so  charming, 
and  thus  will  my  days  be  passed  in  peace.  I  promised  the  dear  lady, 
solemnly  I  promised,  that  I  would  be  all  she  wished  ;  and  I  commu- 
nicated to  her  bosom  inexpressible  delight.  I  left  her  in  tears,  but  they 
were  tears  of  rapture  :  I  retired  to  my  chamber  ;  I  threw  myself  upon 
my  knees,  I  supplicated  pardon  of  my  heavenly  Father,  and,  with  a 
devout  heart,  I  implored  his  supporting  aid.  A  petition  to  my  Crea- 
tor always  possessed  the  potent  power  of  refreshing  my  soul  ;  I  was 
greatly  refreshed,  and  I  looked  forward  with  renewed  complacency. 
In  a  few  hours,  I  was  summoned  to  dinner  ;  at  the  door  of  the  dining- 
room,  I  was  met  by  Mr.  Little,  no  cloud  rested  upon  his  countenance  ; 
I  entered  the  dining-room,  where  were  seated  my  charming,  my  faith- 
ful friends  ;  the  mother,  and  her  daughters  ;  their  countenances  were 
animated,  but  their  eyes  bore  testimony  to  their  previous  agitation  ; 
our  interview,  and  hour  of  dining,  were  highly  gratifying.  It  is  true, 
many  words  were  not  uttered,  but  there  is,  in  the  expressive  eye,  and 
other  intelligent  features  of  a  fine  countenance,  a  fascination  which 
dwelleth  not  in  words.  Soon  after  dinner  my  little  friend,  the  young- 
est daughter  of  my  patron,  visited  me  in  my  chamber,  and  bestowed 
upon  me  many  caresses. 

Halcyon  days  and  months  now  revolved  ;  I  fondly  fancied  I  had 
surmounted  every  difficulty,  and  I  anticipated  a  succession  of  delightful 
enjoyments  ;  yet  again  I  experienced  the  satiety,  consequent  upon  one 


52  Ul-'E    OF    llliV.  JOHN    MURRAY. 

unvaried  routine.  He,  who  had  appointed  me  for  a  life  of  wandering, 
gave  me  a  disposition  which  relucted  at  the  constant  recurrence  of  the 
same  scene  ;  I  ventured  to  pass  one  evening  abroad  :  another,  and 
another  succeeded.  1  was  severely  reflected  upon,  and  I  felt  it  keenly  ; 
conscious  of  meriting  reproach,  I  was  the  more  deeply  wounded.  I 
had  been  recently  conversant  with  a  young  preacher  from  England  ; 
my  imagination  was  tired  ;  the  world  could  not  have  longer  detained 
me;  I  condemned  myself  for  wasting  so  much  time  ;  my  heart,  my 
soul  was  in  England,  in  London.  Let  the  world  bestow  its  censures, 
London  was  the  place,  it  contained  every  thing  delightful  ;  I  was  on 
tiptoe  to  be  gone  ;  if  I  was  not  approved  by  the  family,  so  much  the 
better,  there  would  be  less  ingratitude  in  quitting  it.  My  dear  mater- 
nal friend  once  more  sought,  and  obtained  a  private  interview  ;  this  I 
wished  to  avoid  ;  she  saw  my  reluctance,  and  was  convinced  she  should 
not  succeed.  She  reproached  me  :  this,  though  painful,  I  could  bear 
better,  than  her  tenderness.  "  Then  you  will  leave  us,"  said  the  dear 
lady.  I  am  determined.  "  You  will  repent  it,  sir  ;  you  will  return 
with  sorrow,  and  with  shame  ;  when,  possibly,  you  may  not  find  these 
hospitable  doors  open  to  receive  you."  Never,  never,  I  will  die  first. 
She  paused,  she  raised  her  hands  to  heaven,  she  looked  :  merciful  God, 
I  see  her  now  before  me  :  the  impression  of  her  varying  countenance 
was  unutterable  ;  tears  coursed  each  other  down  her  pallid  cheeks. 
Pausing  for  a  few  moments, she  said:  "  Poor, unhappy  youth, you  know 
not  what  you  are  about,  where  you  are  going,  and  what  you  are  doom- 
ed to  suffer.  Here,  then,  ends  all  my  pleasing  prospects  ;  now  in- 
deed I  have  lost  my  sons  ;  poor  Anna,  she  has  now,  in  truth,  no  broth- 
er. Go,  unhappy  youth,  go,  the  sooner  you  depart,  the  better  ;  I  do 
not  wish  to  see  you  again."  She  left  me,  nor  will  I  attempt  a  descrip- 
tion of  my  sensations.  I  retired  to  my  chamber,  my  chamber  now 
no  more  ;  I  wept,  I  audibly  sobbed.  In  imagination  I  beheld  the  be- 
loved friend,  by  whom  it  was  once  occupied  ;  he  seemed  to  upbraid 
me  for  my  conduct  ;  how  torturing  were  the  pangs  I  suffered.  Upon 
the  evening  of  this  sad  day,  my  cherub  friend  entered  the  chamber, 
and  for  the  last  time,  during  my  abode  therein  ;  pretty  soul,  she  threw 
her  arms  around  my  neck,  my  face  was  wet  with  her  tears  ;  she  told 
me,  that  her  sister  was  very,  very  sad  !  On  what  occasion,  my  love  ? 
"  Why,  papa  is  very,  very  angry  with  you  :  and  she  says,  you  are  go- 
ing away  to-morrow,  she  knows  not  where,  and  that  she  shall  never  see 
you  again  ;  and  she  walks  about  her  chamber,  and  wrings  her  hand?, 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  53 

0  !  dear,  O  !  dear,  I  never  saw  her  so  much  distressed  before  !"    This 
was  a  truly  affecting  night,  but  it  was  the  last  I  passed  under  that  roof; 

1  was  not  summoned  to  breakfast :  a  servant  came  to  ask,  if  I  would 
breakfast  in  my  chamber,  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  my  negative.    I 
saw  oy  the  countenance   of  this  domestic,  that   I  was  fallen.     About 
twelve  o'clock,  I  received  a  message  from  Mr.  Little,  he  was  alone  ;  I 
must  attend  him.      My  sufferings  were  great.      To  meet  his  eye  was 
abundantly  worse  than  death  ;  I  endeavoured  to  avoid  it.     Some  time 
elapsed  before  he  spoke  ;  he  repeatedly  attempted  to  speak,  but  ming- 
ling grief  and  rage  arrested  his  utterance.    At  last  he  said  :  "  Well,  sir. 
you  are  going  to  commence  your  travels  ?"    This,  with  the  manner  in. 
which  it  was  spoken,  relieved  me.     It  was  at  that  moment  my  choice 
to  cherish  resentment,  rather  than  regret.    I  am  going  to  England,  sir. 
"  You  are  ;  well,  and  what  are  you  going  to  do  there  ?     But  this  is  no 
business  of  mine  ;   yet  I  suppose  it  must  be  my  business  to  know,  how 
you  are  to  get  there  ;  have  you  any  money,  sir  ?"  No,  sir.    "  Hold  your 
hat,  sir."     I  did  so,  and  he  threw  into  it  as  much  gold  as  he  pleased, 
and,  as  I  then  believed,  as  much  as  would  support  me,  if  I  should  reach 
the  extreme  age  allotted  to  man.     "  Have  you  enough,  sir  ?"   Yes,  sir, 
quite  enough,   and  God  forever  bless  you.    "  Do  you  hear,  sir,  leave 
behind  you  my  son's  fowling-piece, and  here  ends  my  air-built  castle  ;" 
and  with  a  flushed  countenance,  and  a  tearful  eye,  he  left  me,  nor  did  I 
ever  more  cross  the  threshold  of  his  door.     I  turned  my  baek  upon  this 
once  delightful  home,  with  mingling  emotions  of  sorrow,  mortification, 
regret,  and  auger  ;  all  combining  to  produce  unutterable  anguish. £.  My 
frame  trembled,  as  I  turned  from  the  door ;  a  dullness  pervaded   my 
heart ;  sickness  seized  my  stomach,  and  I  had  just  sufficient  presence 
of  mind  to  turn  the  contents  of  my  hat  into  my  pocket-handkerchief, 
when  I  sunk  down  upon  the  steps  of  the  first  door  in  my  way.      I  was 
seen,  and  noticed  by  the  people  of  the  house,  who  conveyed  me  into 
their  dwelling,  and,  when  they  had  recovered  me,  questioned  me   res- 
pecting the  cause  of  my  indisposition.     I  related,  with  my  usual  frank- 
ness, every  particular,  and  in  a  short  time,   the   story   circulated,   and 
with  all  the  variations  commonly  attached  to  interesting  articles  of  intel- 
ligence.    I  was  soon  sufficiently  restored  to  reach  the  residence  of  my 
mother  ;  where  a  new  scene  of  sorrow  awaited  me.     The  poor  sufferer 
was  beyond  measure  astonished  at  the  step  I  had  so  rashly  taken,  and 
her  distress  was  unutterable  :  she  had  promised  herself  a  long  series  of 
enjoyments,  from  the  happy  arrangements  made  for  me  ;  and  I  suspect 


54  L1FB  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

she  contemplated,  at  no  very  distant  period,  a  union  between  Miss  Lit- 
tle, and  myself  ;  and  her  consequent  agony,  when  she  learned,   that  I 
had  not  only  abandoned  my  home,  and  those  flattering  prospects,  but 
that,  in  consequence  of  my  fixed  determination  to  repair   to    England, 
she  was  to  lose  me,  perhaps  for  ever  ;  the  torture  of  her  mind  was,  as  I 
said,  beyond  the  reach   of  language  :  but  neither  her  tears  nor  entrea- 
ties, strongly  enforced  by  those  of  my  brothers,  and  sisters,  could  for  a 
single  moment  shake  my  resolution.      Whatever  barriers  might  oppose 
my  wandering  steps,  to  England  I  must  depart ;  I  saw,  or  seemed  to 
see,  the  sacred    shade   of  my  father,   first  reproaching  me,  and  then 
soothing  me  to  a  compliance  with  the  wishes  of  his  mourning  family  ; 
and,  by  the   anguish  of  my  feelings,  my  soul  was  harrowed  up  :  yet 
still,  obdurate  as  I  was,  I  continued  inflexible.     I  could  not  endure  to 
see,  or  be  seen,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  abode  which  I  had  quitted  ;   and 
I  made  immediate  preparations  for  my  departure.     I  tendered,  to  my 
disconsolate  mother,  the  money  I  had  received  from  Mr.  Little,  not   a 
penny  of  whtfch  she  would  accept  :  "  No,   my   beloved  child,   if  you 
must  launch  out  upon  the  wide  ocean,   into  a  world  of  which  you 
know  but  little,    you  will  find  this  sum,  large  as  it  is,  far  short  of  your 
exigencies.     Through  your  filial  exertions,  I  am  established  in  a  dwel- 
ling, far  beyond  my  most  sanguine  expectations,  or  even  wishes  ;  and, 
from  your  well-timed  efforts,  I  derive  many  other    advantages  ;  and  if 
my  God  is  about  to  deprive  me  of  my  son,  I  doubt  not,  His  goodness 
and  mercy,  which  have  hitherto  followed  me,  will  still  be  manifest,  both 
in   my  provision,   and   preservation  ;  and  in  that  of  my  helpless  chil- 
dren."    My  heart  seemed  ready  to  burst ;    conscience  whispered,  I 
was  acting  wrong,  very  wrong  ;    yet  even   this   conviction   could  not 
induce  a  relinquishment  of  my  plan  ;    an  irresistible  impulse  seemed 
hurrying  me  on.     Many  instances,   striking   instances,  in  my  long  and 
wearisome  life,  combine  to  prove,  Unit  the  way  of  man  is  not  in  him- 
self ;  I,  at  least,  have  experienced  the  truth  of  this  sacred  testimony. 
As  the  time  of  my  departure  drew  near,  my  feelings  were  still  more 
keen.     My  mother,  my  brothers,  my  sisters,  my  friends,  renewed  their 
tears,  and  entreaties  ;     I  could  not  stem  a  torrent  so  mighty,  and  I  de- 
termined I  would  abide  with  them.     But  it  was  the  determination  of 
the  moment,  extorted  by  the  mournful  supplications  of  all  who  were 
dear  to  me  ;  and  when  they  ceased  to  urge,  I  resumed  my  former  reso- 
lution ;  and  my  mother,  from   early   life   devoutly  religious,  mildly 
resigned  herself  to  an  event,  which  she  considered  inevitable.     "  I  see," 


LIFE  OF  RElV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  55 

said  she,  "  supplications  are  ineffectual  ;  now  I  am  indeed  a  widow  !' 
Starting  at  the  desolate  term  (widow),  so  mournfully  uttered,  I  hast- 
ened to  my  chamber,  and  prostrating  myself  before  the  throne  of  Al- 
in;g!ity  God,  I  seemed  as  if  I  were  struggling  with  the  agonies  of  dis- 
solving nature.  I  would  infinitely  have  preferred  death,  to  a  separation 
so  exquisitely  torturing  :  I  besought  the  God  of  my  father  to  have 
compassion  upon  me,  never  to  leave  nor  forsake  me  ;  and  while  thus 
humbly,  and  faithfully  soliciting  the  Father  of  my  spirit,  renewed  affi- 
ance grew  in  my  bosom,  and  a  voice  seemed  to  say,  "Go,  and  lo  I  am 
with  you  always."  Calmly  reposing  upon  this  assurance,  I  retired  to 
rest  ;  I  quitted  my  pillow  on  the  succeeding  morning,  wonderfully  re- 
freshed. It  was  on  that  morning,  that  I  met,  for  the  last  time,  in  the 
place  of  my  dear,  confiding  father,  his  disconsolate  family  :  It  was  in- 
deed a  time  of  prayer.  My  heart  addressed  the  Father  of  mercies  ;  I 
confessed,  with  great  sincerity,  my  manifold  errors  ;  and  I  petitioned 
for  a  continuance  of  unmerited  kindness;  I  beseeched  God  to  look  with 
pity  on  a  poor,  destitute,  helpless  being,  commencing  a  journey  through 
a  world,  with  which  he  was  unacquainted.  I  entreated  our  God,  in 
behalf  of  my  suffering  mother,  and  her  helpless  orphans,  that  He  would 
constantly  abide  with  them  ;  and  that  he  would  vouchsafe  an  answer 
of  peace  to  the  many  prayers,  offered  up  in  their  behalf,  by  the  husband 
and  parent,  now  in  glory.  My  mother  was  dumb  ;  she  saw  the  hand 
of  God  in  this  business,  and  she  believed,  that,  as  a  sparrow  falleth  not 
to  the  ground  without  our  heavenly  Father,  I  could  not  thus  leave 
rny  pleasant  home,  and  wander  I  knew  not  whither,  except  the  Lord 
directed.  And,  embracing  me,  when  on  the  eve  of  my  departure,  she 
affectingly  said  ;  "  Go,  my  first-born,  my  ever  beloved  son  ;  go,  and 
may  the  God  of  your  father  be  with  you  :  Go,  my  darling  son,  on 
whom,  while  corning  up  from  this  wilderness,  I  fondly  meant  to  lean  ; 
but  God  will  not  allow  me  to  lean  on  any  but  himself :  Go  thou,  ever 
dear  to  my  heart,  and  may  our  God  be  still  near  you,  to  preserve  you 
from  the  evil,  which  is  in  the  world.  The  prayers  of  your  afflicted 
mother  shall  be  continually  offered  up  in  your  behalf  ;  and  oh!  my  son, 
although  we  part,  never  perhaps  to  meet  again  in  this  world,  yet  let 
us  meet  every  day  before  that  throne,  whence  we  may  expect  grace  to 
help  in  every  time  of  need  ;  let  us  be  present  in  spirit,  thus  waiting 
upon  the  Lord.  She  then  threw  her  fond,  maternal  arms  around  me, 
once  more  pressing  me  to  that  dear,  that  faithful  bosom,  whence  I 
drew  my  early  nourishment.  With  tears  of  fond  affection  she  bedew- 


56  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

ed  my  face,  and  again  dropping  upon  her  knees,  she  once  more  lifted 
her  streaming  eyes  to  heaven  in  my  behalf,  when  starting  up,  she  has- 
tened to  the  retirement  of  her  chamber,  and  instantly  closed  the  door. 
I  stood  like  a  statue  ;  I  could  not  move  ;  I  was  almost  petrified  by 
sorrow.  But  from  this  state  of  stupefaction  I  was  roused  by  the  burst 
of  sorrow,  and  loud  lamentations  of  my  sisters ;  I  turned  to  the  dear 
girls,  I  wept  with  them,  and  endeavoured  to  give  them  that  consolation 
which  I  did  not  myself  possess.  But,  hastening  from  this  scene  of  sor- 
row, there  was  one  pang,  which  I  calculated  to  escape.  The  youngest 
child,  a  beautiful  little  boy,  who  bore  the  name  of  my  father — sweet 
cherub — I  dreaded  seeing  him,  and  determined  to  spare  myself  this  tor- 
ture ;  but,  as  I  slowly,  and  pensively  passed  from  the  house,  believing 
that  what  was  worse  than  the  bitterness  of  death  had  passed,  this  lovely 
little  fellow  crossed  my  path.  Sweet  innocent,  thou  wert  playful  as  the 
frisking  lamb  of  the  pasture,  totally  ignorant  of  the  agonies,  which 
wrung  the  heart  of  thy  brother.  He  ran  to  me,  clung  around  my 
knees,  and  looking  wishfully  in  my  face,  affectingly  questioned  ; 
"  Where  are  you  going  ?"  I  could  not  reply,  I  attempted  to  move  on, 
he  took  hold  of  my  garment  ;  "  Let  me  go  with  you  ?  shall  not  I  go 
with  you,  brother  ?"  He  uttered  these  questions,  in  a  voice  so  plain- 
tive, that  he  pierced  my  very  soul.  Surely,  had  it  been  possible,  I 
should  even  then  have  relinquished  my  purpose.  It  was  with  difficulty 
that  I  extricated  myself  from  this  supplicating  infant.  I  would  have 
hastened  forward,  but  my  trembling  limbs  refused  their  office  ;  I  caught 
him  in  my  arms,  I  pressed  him  to  my  aching  bosom,  and  but  for  a 
burst  of  tears,  which  came  seasonably  to  my  relief,  the  struggles  of  my 
heart  must  have  choaked  me.  I  left  him — yes,  I  left  this  youngest  of 
my  father's  children  ;  this  dear  object  of  my  soul's  affection,  this  infant 
charge,  committed  to  my  care,  by  an  expiring  father  :  I  left  him  in  the 
act  of  innocent  supplication.  I  left  him  when  I  should,  with  a  thou- 
sand times  less  of  suffering,  have  quitted  the  clay-built  tabernacle  of  my 
spirit ;  nor  had  I  ought  in  prospect,  to  compensate  the  sorrows  to  which 
I  voluntarily  submitted  !  !  Surely,  there  is  a  hand  unseen,  which 
governs  the  human  being,  and  all  his  actions  ;  I  repeat,  truly  the  way 
of  man  is  not  in  himself  .  Few  sufferings  could  surpass  those  which, 
upon  this  occasion,  I  endured  :  My  bitterest  enemy  could  not  have 
censured  me  with  more  severity,  than  I  censured  myself,  yet  I  passed 
on  ;  no  friend  could  urge  my  return  with  more  energy,  than  did  the 
emotions  of  my  own  afflicted  heart,  yet  I  passed  on.  True,  I  passed 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  57 

on  slowly  ;  a  frame,  enfeebled  by  mental  agonies,  is  not  moved  without 
difficulty.  I  had  sent  my  trunk  on,  in  the  wagon,  to  the  city  of  Cork, 
where  I  purposed  to  take  passage  for  England  ;  and  with  my  staff  in 
my  hand,  I  passed  on,  my  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground,  not  wishing  to 
encounter  any  human  eye  :  It  was  with  much  difficulty,  I  attained  the 
summit  of  a  steep  acclivity,  where,  spent  and  weary,  I  sat  me  down. 
From  this  lofty  eminence,  in  full  perspective,  outspread  before  me,  was 
the  place  from  which  I  had  departed  ;  my  eye  eagerly  ran  oter  the 
whole  scene.  Upon  a  gentle  ascent,  directly  opposite,  embosomed  in  a 
thick  grove  of  ash,  sycamore,  and  fruit  trees,  appeared  the  loved  dwel- 
ling of  my  mother.  Behind  this  eminence,  still  ascending,  was  out- 
stretched that  garden,  in  which,  with  great  delight,  I  had  so  often  la- 
boured ;.  where  I  had  planted  herbs,  fruits,  and  flowers,  in  great  varie- 
ty ;  and  where,  as  my  departure  was  in  the  month  of  June,  they  all 
flourished  in  high  perfection.  It  was  only  during  the  preceding  year, 
that  I  had  added  to  my  stock  a  large  number  of  the  best  fruit  trees,  in 
the  full  expectation  of  reaping  the  reward  of  my  labours,  through  many 
successive  reasons.  In  those  tall  trees,  the  cuckoo,  the  thrush,  and  the 
blackbird,  built  their  nests  ;  and  at  early  dawn,  and  at  closing  eve,  I 
have  hung  enraptured  upon  their  melodious  notes.  My  swimming  eye 
passed  from  the  garden  to  the  house ;  there  sat  my  weeping,  my  suppli- 
cating mother,  at  that  moment,  probably,  uniting  with  her  deserted  chil- 
dren in  sending  up  to  heaven  petitions  for  my  safety.  I  turned  to  the 
right  ;  there  towered  the  stately  mansion,  1  was  bid  to  consider  as  my 
own  ;  there  dwelt  the  matron,  whew  hoped  I  should  have  been  unto  her 
as  a  son,  and  who  had  cherished  me  as  such  ;  there  dwelt  the  charming 
young  lady,  whose  virtuous  attachment  might  have  constituted  the  so- 
lace of  my  existence.  The  tear  of  sorrow,  the  sigh  of  disappointment, 
no  doubt,  bedewed  their  cheeks,  and  swelled  their  faithful  bosoms  : 
And,  oh  !  I  exclaimed,  may  the  balm  of  peace,  may  the  consolations 
of  the  holy  spirit,  be  abundantly  shed  abroad  in  your  hearts. 

As  thus,  from  scene  to  scene,  my  eager  eye  with  tearful  haste  had 
wandered,  my  heart  reiterated  its  unutterable  agonies  ;  and,  as  I  con- 
sidered my  situation  as  resembling  that  of  the  father  of  mankind, 
when  driven  from  the  paradise,  to  which  state  of  blessedness  it  was 
decreed  he  never  was  to  return,  I  would  gladly  have  laid  me  down  and 
died  :  I  would  have  given  the  world,  had  it  been  at  my  disposal,  to 
have  reinstated  myself  in  the  situation,  and  circumstances,  I  had  so 
inconsiderately  relinquished  ;  but  this  was  impossible,  and  this  con- 


3$  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

viction — how  terrible  !  I  wept,  I  sobbed.  Despair  seemed  taking  up 
its  residence  in  my  bosom.  I  fled  from  the  scene  ;  again  I  turned  ;  one 
more  look ;  I  wrung  my  hands  in  agony,  and  my  heart  spontaneously 
exclaimed  :  Dear,  ever  dear  parent,  once  more  farewell  ;  dear,  much 
loved  sisters,  brothers,  and  thou,  sweet  innocent,  thou  smiling,  thought- 
less, and  therefore  happy  babe,  once  more  farewell  ;  and  you,  dear 
second  parents,  and  thou  sister  of  the  friend  of  my  soul,  with  the  beau- 
teous cherub,  whose  infantile  caresses,  while  pouring  into  my  ear  the 
interesting  tale,  were  as  balm  to  my  wounded  spirit — farewell,  Oh  ! 
farewell  forever  !  and  you,  ye  many  kind,  religious  connexions,  with 
whom  I  have  often  wept,  and  prayed,  and  joyed,  arid  sorrowed,  once 
more  I  bid  you  adieu  ;  adieu  ye  flowery  walks,  where  I  have  spent 
so  many  happy  hours  ;  ye  thick  embowering  shades,  reared  by  these 
hani's,  ye  health-restoring  herbs,  ye  sweet  delicious  fruits,  ye  fragrant 
flowers,  receive  my  last  farewell.  Still  I  lingered — still  I  gazed  around, 
and  yet  again,  another  look — 'tis  past,  and  I  am  gone  forever.  I  turn- 
ed from  the  view,  and  have  never  since  beheld  those  charming  scenes. 
I  wonder  much  my  agitated  spirits  had  not  insured  a  fever ;  but  God 
preserved  me,  and  leading  my  mind  to  the  consideration  of  scenes  be- 
yond the  present  state,  I  was  enabled  to  proceed,  until  I  beheld,  in 
perspective,  the  spires  of  the  opulent  city,  which  I  was  approaching. 
The  opening  prospect,  with  the  additional  sound  of  a  fine  ring  of  bells 
from  Shannon  steeple  (a  church  standing  on  an  eminence  upon  the  river 
Lee,  the  bells  of  which  are  heard  at  an  immense  distance),  gave  a  new 
tone  to  my  mind.  I  had  many  friends  in  the  city  of  Cork,  and  I  en- 
deavoured to  derive  consolation  from  their  unquestioned  attachment. 
I  had  frequently  preached  in  this  city,  and  I  had  reason  to  suppose  my 
labours  had  been  acceptable.  In  the  city  of  Cork,  my  paternal  grand- 
mother, with  her  daughter,  my  aunt  Champion,  and  her  children,  still 
lived.  My  society  would  be  sought,  and  I  should  again  be  engaged 
in  preaching  ;  these  considerations  lessened  the  weight  of  affliction,  by 
which  I  had  \n\  sorely  pressed.  I  arrived  at  the  mansion  of  my 
grandmother,  some  time  before  sunset,  and  I  was  very  joyfully  receiv- 
ed ;  but  when  I  had  communicated  my  plan,  the  countenances  both  of 
my  grandmother,  and  my  aunt,  decidedly  evinced  their  displeasure  : 
they  censured  me  with  severity,  and  I  keenly  felt  their  rebukes.  I  as- 
sured them,  I  came  not  to  solicit  aid  ;  and  rising  from  my  chair,  I  bade 
them  formally  adieu,  quitting  their  presence,  and  their  house.  The 
oldest  daughter  of  my  aunt,  a  very  beautiful  young  lady,  and  as  good  as 


-LIFE   OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  59 

beautiful,  whose  heart  was  formed  for  pity  and  for  tenderness,  followed 
me  down  stairs,  and  entreated  me  to  continue  with  them,  but  her  well- 
designed  interference  was  ineffectual.  I  had  been  severely  censured, 
and  I  could  not  bear  it ;  I  could  have  borne  it  better,  if  it  had  been  un- 
merited. I  left  my  lovely  cousin  in  tears,  nor  did  I  again  see,  or  hear 
from  any  individual  of  the  family,  until,  one  evening  after  I  had  preach- 
ed in  the  Methodist  Church,  my  grandmother  advanced,  took  my  hand, 
and  requested  I  would  attend  her  home  :  I  confess  I  was  delighted 
with  her  condescension  ;  for  my  mind  had  greatly  suffered  from  the  re- 
flection, that  I  had  given  pain  to  the  dear,  and  respectable  mother  of 
my  deceased  father.  I  accompanied  her  home,  and  we  passed  a  happy 
evening  together  ;  both  my  grandmother,  and  my  aunt,  addressed  me 
in  strains  the  most  soothing  ;  they  poured  into  my  lacerated  mind  the 
oil  and  wine  of  consolation  ;  they  confessed  themselves  convinced,  that 
the  good  hand  of  God  was  in  my  removal.  "  You  are,"  said  the  pious 
lady,  "  you  are,  my  dear  child,  under  the  guidance  of  an  omnipotent 
Power  ;  God  has  designed  you  for  himself ;  you  are  a  chosen  instru- 
ment to  give  light  to  your  fellow  men  ;  you  are,  I  perceive,  ordained  to 
turn  many  from  darkness  unto  light,  from  the  power  of  satan,  unto  God, 
and  the  Lord  will  be  with  you.  The  God  of  your  father  will  bless  you, 
and  make  your  way  prosperous  before  you  ;  look  no  more,  then,  to 
what  you  have  left  behind,  but  look  forward  in  faith,  always  remember- 
ing, that  God's  icorks  of  providence  are  his  most  holy,  wise,  and  power- 
ful;  preserving  and  governing  all  his  creatures,  and  all  their  actions. 
Do  not,  I  say,  reflect  upon  yourself  ;  I  confess,  I  was  wrong  in  censur- 
ing you  ;  God's  way  is  in  the  great  deep,  we  ought  to  acquiesce  in  all 
the  dispensations  of  our  Creator.  You,  my  dear  son,  are  as  clay  in  his 
hand  ;  God  is  as  the  potter,  who  will  do  with  you  as  seemeth  good  in 
his  sight.  Who  can  resist  his  will  ?"  Thus  did  this  dear  lady  speak 
peace  to  a  mind,  that  had  not,  for  a  long  season,  received  such  strong 
consolation. 

I  was  urged,  while  in  the  city  of  Cork,  to  relinquish  my  purpose  of  j 
going  to  England.  The  Methodists  solicited  rne  to  repair  to  Limerick, 
where  a  preacher  was  much  wanted  ;  but  nothing  could  seduce  my 
thoughts  from  my  native  island.  I  frequently  mixed  in  company, 
where  religious  disputes  ran  very  high.  The  doctrine  of  election,  and 
final  perseverance,  were  severely  reprobated  :  But  election,  and 
final  perseverance,  were  fundamentals  in  my  creed,  and  were  received 
by  me,  as  the  doctrines  of  God.  Yet  I  was  aware,  that  an  attempt  to  < 


60  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

defend  principles,  so  obnoxious,  would  subject  me  to  the  censure,  and 
ill  treatment  of  religious  enemies,  and  I  had  experienced,  that  religious 
enemies  were  the  most  to  be  dreaded :  Yet,  as  I  could  not  be  silent,  and 
as  I  dared  not  dissemble,  I  contented  myself  with  observing,  that  I 
had  been  accustomed  to  hear  my  respectable  father  speak  in  favour  of 
those  doctrines.  But  although,  in  my  public  labours,  I  never  asserted 
ought,  that  could  expose  me  to  censure,  yet  I  was  more  thai  suspected 
of  Calvinism,  and  consequent  resentments  were  enforced  against  me. 
My  residence  in  the  city  of  Cork  was  thus  rendered  unpleasant,  and 
my  impatience  to  embark  for  England  was  augmented.  I  was,  how- 
ever, obliged  to  continue  two  weeks  longer,  during  which  period,  I 
endeavoured  to  live  as  retired  as  possible,  avoiding  controversy,  and 
devoting  my  time  to  my  grandmother  and  a  few  select  friends.  It  was 
during  my  protracted  residence  in  this  city,  that  the  celebrated  Mr. 
George  Whitefield  arrived  there,  upon  a  visit.  Of  Mr.  Whitefield  I 
had  heard  much,  and  I  was  delighted  with  an  opportunity  of  seeing, 
hearing,  and  conversing  with  so  great  a  man.  He  was  the  first  Cal- 
vinistic  Methodist  I  had  ever  heard,  and  he  became  very  dear  to  me  ; 
I  listened  with  transport.  The  principles  early  inculcated  upon  my 
mind  were  in  full  force,  and  for  Mr.  Whitefield  I  conceived  a  very 
strong  passion.  He  appeared  to  me  something  more  than  human  ; 
I  blushed,  at  the  view  of  myself,  as  a  preacher,  after  I  had  attended 
upon  him  ;  yet  I  had  the  temerity  to  preach  in  pulpits,  which  he  h^.d 
so  well  filled  !  and  I  secretly  resolved  lo  enter  into  connexion  with 
him,  if  I  should  be  so  happy  as  to  meet  him,  after  my  arrival  in  Lon- 
don. I  had  many  delightful  opportunities  in  private  circles  with  this 
gentleman  ;  he  was  a  most  entertaining  companion.  But,  as  Mr.  AVes- 
ley  marked  him  with  a  jealous  eye,  he  dispatched,  by  way  of  escort, 
two  of  his  preachers,  in  whom  he  particularly  confided,  who  diligently 
followed  the  great  man,  from  place  to  place  :  he  was  of  course,  upon 
every  occasion,  closely  watched  ;  and  his  facetious  observations,  and 
frequent  gaiety,  were,  by  these  spies,  severely  censured,  as  descriptive 
of  unbecoming  levity.  In  fact,  every  art  was  called  into  action,  to 
prevent  the  affections  of  the  people  wandering,  from  one  reformer  to 
another  ;  yet,  while  gentlemen,  in  connexion  with  Mr.  Wesley,  were 
continually  upon  the  alert  against  Mr.  Whitefield,  he  himself  evinced 
not  the  smallest  inclination  for  opposition,  or  even  defence  ;  he  appear- 
ed perfectly  content  with  the  enjoyments  of  the  duy,  rather  preferring 
a  state  of  independence,  to  an  intimate  connexion  with  any  sect,  or 


LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  61 

party.  His  choice,  at  that  time,  was  decidedly  the  life  of  an  itinerant, 
and  he  then  evidently  shrunk  from  the  cares,  and  embarrassments,  at- 
tached to  the  collecting,  building,  and  repairing  churches.  And  never, 
I  believe,  did  any  man  in  public  life  enjoy  more  :  he  was  the  admira- 
tion of  the  many,  and  an  object  of  the  warmest  affection  in  those  so- 
cial circles,  in  which  it  was  his  felicity  to  mingle.  The  pleasures  of 
the  table  were  highly  zested  by  Mr.  Whitefield,  and  it  was  the  pride 
of  his  friends  to  procure  for  him  every  possible  luxury.  The  pleasure 
I  derived  from  this  gentleman's  preaching,  from  his  society,  and  from 
the  society  of  his  friends,  contributed  to  lessen  the  weight  of  melancho- 
ly, which  depressed  my  spirits  on  my  departure  from  home.  I  recol- 
lect an  evening,  passed  with  him  at  the  house  of  one  of  Mr.  Wesley's 
preachers,  who  had  wedded  a  beautiful  young  lady  of  family  and  for- 
tune, only  daughter  of  a  Mrs. ,  who  possessed  a  very  large 

estate,  kept  her  chariot,  her  city,  and  her  country  house,  and  entertained 
much  company  ;  many  persons  were  collected  upon  this  evening  ; 
I  was  charmed  with  every  thing  I  saw,  with  every  thing  I  heard.  I. 
had  long  admired  the  master  of  the  house,  his  lady  I  had  never  before 
seen  ;  she  was  the  object  of  general  adulation  ;  her  person  was  un- 
commonly elegant,  and  her  face  dazzlingly  beautiful  ;  she  had  received 
a  useful,  as  well  as  a.  fashionable  education,  and  she  was  mistress  of  all 
the  polite  accomplishments.  She  had  three  lovely  children,  with  minds 
as  well  cultivated,  as  their  time  of  life  would  permit  ;  I  threw  my  eyes 
upon  the  happy,  the  highly  favoured  husband,  the  amiable  wife,  the 
fascinating  children,  the  venerable  lady,  who  gave  being  to  this  charm- 
ing wife,  mother,  friend.  I  beheld  the  group  with  rapture  ;  for  envy, 
as  I  have  elsewhere  observed,  was  never  an  ingredient  in  my  compo- 
sition, and  I  hung  with  a  sort  of  chastened  pleasure,  upon  the  anecdotes 
furnished  by  Mr.  Whitefield  ;  the  whole  scene  was  captivatingly  en- 
tertaining, and  highly  interesting  ;  I  was  ready  to  wish  the  night 
might  endure  forever.  Alas  !  it  was  but  one  night ;  I  never .  after  en- 
tered that  house  :  Happy  would  it  have  been  for  me,  if  I  had  never 
seen  it.  How  mysterious  are  the  ways  of  heaven  !  this  evening,  upon 
which  I  was  so  highly  gratified,  was  the  remote  cause  of  my  suffering, 
many  years  afterwards,  great  and  very  serious  inquietude.  I  left  the 
house  of  my  friend,  Mr.  Trinbath,  expecting  to  have  seen  him  again 
and  again  ;  I  left  him  an  object  of  envy  to  many  ;  but  I  never  saw 
him  more,  nor  did  lie,  poor  gentleman,  long  continue  the  object  of 
envy  to  any  one. 


62  LIFE  OF  RBV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

This  was  the  last  night  I  spent  in  this  city,  in  this  country.  The  ves- 
sel, in  which  I  had  engaged  a  passage  to  Bristol,  was  now  ready  for 
sailing  ;  I  had  only  time,  upon  the  morning  of  the  ensuing  day,  to  bid 
a  hasty  adieu  to  my  grandmother,  and  her  family,  with  a  lew  other 
friends  ;  to  receive  their  blessings,  and  to  depart.  I  took  my  place  in 
the  vessel  at  the  wharf,  some  of  my  friends  accompanying  me  thither  ;  I 
spoke  to  them  with  my  eyes,  with  my  hands,  my  tongue  refused  utterance. 

The  beauty  of  the  surrounding  scenes,  in  passing  from  the  city  to  the 
cove  of  Cork,  cannot  perhaps  be  surpassed.  A  few  miles  from  the  city 
stands  a  fortress,  then  governed  by  a  half  brother  of  my  father.  I 
beheld  it  with  a  humid  eye,  but  the  vessel  had  a  fair  wind,  and  we 
passed  it  rapidly.  I  retired  to  the  cabin  ;  my  too  retentive  memory 
retraced  the  scenes  I  had  witnessed,  since  first  I  reached  Hi  hernia's 
hospitable  shore  ,  they  were  many,  and  to  me  interesting  :  reflection 
became  extremely  painful,  yet  it  was  impossible  to  avoid  it  ;  and 
while  I  was  thus  retrospecting,  the  vessel  cut  her  way  through  the  har- 
bour ;  we  had  reached  the  cove,  we  were  on  the  point  of  leaving  the 
land.  I  jumped  upon  the  deck,  I  threw  my  eyes  over  the  country  I 
was  leaving,  which  contained  all  that  was  near  and  dear  to  me,  either 
by  the  ties  of  blood  or  friendship  ;  all,  all  were  drawn  up  in  order  be- 
fore me,  it  was  another  parting  scene.  Yet  I  cherished  hope,  I  might 
again  return.  Alas  !  alas  !  this  hope  was  delusive  ;  it  was  an  ever- 
lasting adieu.  Dear  country  of  guileless,  and  courteous  manners,  of 
integrity,  and  generous  hospitality,  I  bid  you  adieu  ;  adieu  ye  ver- 
dant hills,  ye  fertile  vallies,  ye  gurgling  rills,  which  every  where  cross 
the  path  of  the  traveller  ;  ye  delicious  fruits,  ye  fragrant  flowers,  ye 
sylvan  scenes,  for  contemplation  made — adieu,  perhaps  forever.  Here 
ends  the  various  hopes  and  fears,  which  have  swelled  my  bosom  in  a 
country  celebrated  for  the  salubrity  of  its  air,  the  clearness  of  its  waters, 
the  richness  of  its  pastures,  and  the  hospitality  of  its  inhabitants  ;  and 
Where  no  poisonous  reptile  could  ever  yet  procure  sustenance. 


CHAPTER   III. 
Arrival  in  England,  and  further  Progress  of  the  INEXPERIENCED 

Traveller. 

Hail,  native  Isle,  for  deeds  of  worth  renown'd, 
By  Statesmen,  Patriots,  Poets,  Heroes  crown'd  ; 
For  thee  my  friends,  my  weeping  friends,  I  leave, 
To  thy  hlest  arms,  thy  wandering  son  receive. 

NOW  began  a  new  era  of  my  melancholy  life.  Losing  sight  of  land, 
I  again  retired  to  my  cabin  :  alas  !  "  busy  thought  was  too  busy  for 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  6S 

my  peace."  Launched  upon  the  wide  ocean,  I  was  speeding  to  a  country, 
my  native  country  indeed  ;  but  a  country,  in  which  I  could  boast  neith- 
er relation,  nor  friend,   not  even  a  single  acquaintance.     I  was  quitting 
a  country,  in  which  I  had  both  relations  and  friends,  with  many  pleas- 
ant acquaintances  :  yet  this  consideration  did  not  much   depress  me  ; 
for  although  my  heart  was  pained,  exquisitely  pained,  when  I  reflected 
on  those  I  was  leaving,  yet  I  was  in  raptures  at  the   thought  of  Eng- 
land.    I   promised  myself  every  thing   pleasing  in   England  ;  yet,  in 
my  most  visionary  moments,  I  could  not  name  a  source,  from  which  I 
could  rationally  expect  establishment,  or  even  temporary  gratification. 
Several  gentlemen  were  in  the  cabin,  who  took  kind  notice  of  me  ;  they 
asked  me  no  questions,  so  I  was  not  embarrassed  ;  but  they  contribut- 
ed to  render  my  passage  agreeable,   which,  however,  was  very  short  ; 
for  the  identical  passage,  which,  when  I  accompanied  my  father,  con- 
sumed full  nine  weeks,  was  now  performed  in  three  days  ;  but,  ex- 
empted from  those  fears,  and  that  nausea,  which  sometimes  afflict  fresh- 
water sailors,   I  was  rather  pleased  with  the  rapidity  of  our  passage. 
We  dropped  anchor  in  Bristol  channel ;   I  was  charmed  with  an  oppor- 
tunity of  going  on  shore  at  Pill,  and  once  more  greeting  the  good  old 
lady,  that  had,  many  years  before,  so  tenderly  compassionated  me,  when 
I  returned,  as  one  from  the  dead,  to  my  offended  father.  Alas  !  she  was 
no  more  ;  this  was  a  disappointment,  but  I  was  in  England,'  and  every 
thing  I  saw,  swelled  my  throbbing  bosom  to  rapture.    I  was  determin- 
ed on  walking  to  Bristol,  it  was  only  five  miles,  and  through  a  most  en- 
chanting country.     O  !  what  transport  of  delight  I  felt,  when,  with  the 
ens 'ling  morning,   I  commenced  my  journey.     The  birds  sweetly  ca- 
rolled, the  flowers  enamelled  the  meadows,  the  whole  scene  was  para- 
disiacal.    It  was  England.       But  where  was  I  going  ?    I  knew   not. 
How  to  be  employed  1  I  knew  not  ;  but  I   knew  I   was  in  England, 
and,  after  feasting  my  eyes  and  ears,    I  seated  myself  upon  a  verdant 
bank,  where  the  hot  wells,  (so  much  celebrated  as  the  resort  of  invalid 
votaries  of  fashion,  who  come  hear  to  kill  time,  and  to  protract  a  debili- 
tated existence   by  the  use  of  the  waters,)  were  in  full  view.     Here  I 
began  seriously  to  reflect  upon  my  situation,   and  to  attend  to  various 
questions,  proposed  by  a  certain  invisible,  my  internal   monitor,  who 
thus  introduced  the  inquiry.     "  Well,  here  you  are,  in  England,  what 
are  you  to  do  ?"    God  only  knows.     "  Had  you  not   better  apply  to 
Him  for  his   direction  and  protection  ?"     Certainly,   where   has  my 
mind  wandered,  that  I  have  not  thus  done  before  ?  The  emotions  of  my 
,.  heart  were  at  this  moment  indescribable.     When  I  last  gazed  upon 


64  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

these  scenes,  my  prudent,  vigilant  father,  was  at  my  side,  to  guard  me 
from  evil  ;  now  I  had  no  guide,  no  counsellor,  no  protector  !  "  O 
yes,"  said  my  monitor,  "  you  have  the  Creator,  the  Father  of  your 
father,  He  will  be  your  God,  and  your  guide  :  He  will  be  your  pro- 
tector, your  counsellor,  your  preserver  ;  He  will  provide  for  you,  and,if 
you  apply  to  Him,  He  will  make  your  way  plain  before  you."  My 
heart,  softened  and  cheered  by  these  consoling  suggestions,  instantly 
began  its  supplications  ;  there  I  prayed,  and  there  I  remembered  Ja- 
cob upon  the  field  of  Padan-Aram  ;  I  commended  myself  to  the  care 
of  the  God  of  Abraham,  of  Isaac,  and  of  Jacob,  and  I  added  to  these 
names,  the  name  of  my  own  father.  Thus,  by  unbosoming  myself  to 
the  Author  of  my  existence,  was  my  spirit  greatly  refreshed.  It  is 
very  true  I  wept,  freely  wept,  but  my  tears  were  tears  of  luxury,  and  I 
went  on  my  way  rejoicing,  in  a  hope  which  gave  me,  as  it  were,  to 
tread  air.  I  reached  Bristol  at  early  dinner,  I  entered  a  tavern,  in- 
quiring if  I  could  be  furnished  with  a  dinner.  They  saw  I  was  a 
stranger,  and  from  Ireland.  The  master  of  the  inn  was  from  the  same 
country  ;  he  soon  discovered  I  was  a  Methodist,  and  being  acquainted 
with  those  Religionists,  he  invited  them  to  visit  me,  and  I  was  conse- 
quently introduced  to  many  of  the  Methodists  in  that  city.  It  may 
be  thought  strange,  that,  as  I  had  been  so  much  engaged  among  the 
Methodists  in  Ireland,  being  one  of  their  approved  preachers,  I  did  not 
take  the  steps  necessary  to  introduce  me  among  that  class  of  people  in 
England.  But,  beside  the  jealousy  which  had  taken  place  in  the  minds 
of  my  religious  brethren,  on  account  of  my  attachment  to  the  doctrine 
of  election,  which  made  me  resolve  to  quit  Mr.  Wesley's  connexion, 
and  unite  myself  with  the  adherents  of  Mr.  Whitefield,  I  wished  for 
liberty  to  act  myself,  without  restraint.  But  on  being  introduced,  I 
was  soon  engaged  ;  attended  their  meetings,  and  private  societies,  and 
was  admired,  and  caressed,  and  consequently  tarried  longer  than  I 
had  proposed,  deriving,  from  every  social  interview,  abundant  consola- 
tion. Upon  the  evening  previous  to  my  departure  from  Bristol,  1  was 
urged  to  visit  a  society  a  few  miles  from  the  city  ;  it  was  a  pleasant 
walk  ;  several  of  both  sexes  were  assembled,  they  were  neat  in  person, 
and  correct  in  manners,  and  they  were  all  English.  I  was  charmed, 
and,  being  in  good  spirits,  I  was  thought  excellent  company  ;  I. was 
then  a  stranger.  They  were  highly  pleased  ;  I  was  requested  to  pray  ; 
I  did  so,  and  we  mingled  our  tears.  I  was  solicited  to  continue  among 
this  people,  but  my  wishes  all  pointed  to  London — and  to  London  I 
must  go.  I  parted  with  my  new  acquaintance  with  regret,  for  I  was 


LIFE  OF  R^V.  JOHN  MURRAY.  65 

as  much  pleased  with  them,  as  they  appeared  to  be  with  me.  Being 
prevailed  upon  to  tarry  dinner  the  next  day,  I  did  not  leave  Bristol 
until  the  afternoon.  I  then  departed  alone,  determining  to  proceed  as 
far  as  Bath,  and  take  the  stage  for  London,  upon  the  ensuing  morning. 
As  I  passed  over  one  of  the  most  charming  roads  in  England,  and 
alone,  I  had  not  only  time  for  reflection,  but  my  reflections  were  pen- 
sively pleasing :  I  was  advancing  towards  the  metropolis  ;  hitherto  I 
had  experienced  the  goodness  of  God,  and  I  indulged  the  most  san- 
guine hopes.  My  heart  was  greatly  elated  ;  I  beheld  the  surrounding 
scenes  with  rapture  ;  I  was  not  wearied  by  my  walk,  it  was  only  six- 
teen miles  from  Bristol,  to  Bath  ;  the  fields  stood  thick  with  corn,  the 
valleys,  burdened  with  an  uncommon  load  of  hay,  seemed  to  laugh  and 
sing,  and  the  birds,  in  their  variety,  were,  as  if  hymning  the  praises  of 
their  Creator,  while  the  setting  sun  heightened  the  grandeur,  and  gave 
the  finishing  touches  to  the  scene.  My  feelings  were  indeed  highly 
wrought.  I  proceeded  near  the  margin  of  a  beautiful  river  ;  two  hay- 
makers were  returning  from  their  toil  ;  I  addressed  them,  and,  in  my 
accustomed  manner,  I  expressed  my  delight,  and  my  gratitude. 
"  These,"  said  I,  in  a  strain  of  rapture,  "  These  are  thy  glorious  works, 
Parent  of  good  ;  Almighty  Father,  thine  this  universal  frame  ;  these 
wond'rous  fair — surpassing  wonder  far — thyself  how  wond'rous  then  !" 
Tears  gushed  in  my  eyes,  as  I  thus  expressed  the  transport  of  my  soul. 
The  men  were  astonished,  yet  they  seemed  pleased  ;  t  asked  them  the 
name  of  the  river  ?  They  replied,  "  the  Avon,  sir,"  Then,  said  T, 
it  flows  through  the  native  place  of  Shakspenre.  "  Shakspeare,  who 
is  he  ?"  A  writer,  I  replied;  wondering  at  myself  for  mentioning  his 
name  ;  but  I  thought  of  Shakspeare,  and  I  have  ever  been  accustomed 
to  think  loud  ;  the  thought  was  an  addition  to  my  pleasures,  and.  from 
the  abundance  of  the  heart,  the  mouth  speaketh.  My  companions 
could  not  fail  of  discovering,  that  I  came  from  Ireland,  yet  they  cast  no 
reflections  upon  me,  as  is  the  custom  with  low  people,  upon  these 
occasions  ;  they  were  rather  disposed  to  treat  me  kindly.  "  I  fancy,"  said 
one  of  them,  "  you  are  a  Methodist."  I  am  said  I — I  do  not  deny  it. 
"  Then  my  Bess  will  be -glad  to  see  thee,  I'll  warrant  me  ;  wool  thee 
come  along  with  me  ?  Thee  may  go  farther,  and  fare  worse,  I  can 
tell  thee  that."  "  Ay,  ay,"  said  the  other,  "  Thee  had  best  go  with 
my  neighbour — I'll  warrant  thee  good  cheer."  I  thanked  thirf  kind 
man,  and  my  heart  swelled  with  gratitude  to  that  Being,  in  wlio.se 
hands  are  the  hearts  of  all  his  creatures,  for  thus  meeting  me  on  my 
entrance  into  this  strange  city,  with  lovingMdndness,  and  tender  mercy. 


66  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

We  walked  on  together,  mutually  delighted  ;  I,  with  every  thing  I 
saw,  and  my  companions  with  me,  for  my  expressed  s'ltisluction.  We 
soon  stopped  at  the  door  of  a  very  neat  house.  This  cannot,  said  my 
heart,  be  the  dwelling  of  a  hay-maker  ;  it  was,  however,  and  opening 
the  door,  he  said  :  "  Here,  Bess,  I  have  brought  thee  home  a  young 
Methodist,  I  know  thee  wilt  be  glad  to  see  him."  I  was  then,  by  this 
rough,  good-hearted  man,  presented,  to  his  wife:  "Thou  must  find 
out  his  name  thyself."  I  immediately  told  her  my  name,  when,  in  a 
friendly  manner,  she  requested  me  to  be  seated.  She  was  a  very  differ- 
ent character  from  her  husband,  her  manners  were  even  polished  ;  she 
entered  into  friendly  conversation  with  me,  and  we  derived  much  sat- 
isfaction therefrom,  when  her  husband  entering,  inquired  in  his  rough 
manner,  "  What  the  plague,  Bess,  hast  got  no  supper  for  thy  guest  ?" 
This  was  a  matter  to  which  we  had  neither  of  us  recurred.  The  good 
man,  however,  was  speedily  obeyed,  and  an  elegant  repast  was  forth- 
with placed  upon  the  table,  of  which  I  partook  with  appetite.  We 
afterwards  sang  one  of  the  Methodist  hymns,  and  we  united  in  sol- 
emn prayer  ;  while  my  heart  acknowledged  all  the  fervour  of  devotion, 
even  my  host  himself  seemed  affected  and  pleased,  declaring  he  es- 
teemed himself  fortunate  in  meeting  me.  I  was  introduced  to  a  hand- 
some lodging  room,  and  a  good  bed,  but  the  fulness  of  my  grateful 
heart  would  not,  for  some  time,  allow  me  to  close  my  eyes  ;  at  length 
I  sunk  into  the  most  refreshing  slumbers,  and  I  arose  the  next  morning 
greatly  exhilarated.  I  was  received  by  my  hospitable  host,  and  hostess, 
with  every  mark  of  satisfaction  ;  we  breakfasted  together,  sang  a  hymn, 
and  addressed  the  throne  of  grace,  when  the  good  man  went  forth  to 
the  labours  of  the  field,  requesting  that  I  would  not  think  of  leaving 
them.  In  the  course  of  the  morning,  the  good  lady  informed  me,  that 
they  had  recently  settled,  in  Bath,  a  Mr.  Tucker,  who  had  been  a 
preacher  in  Ireland.  My  heart  leaped  at  this  intelligence  ;  of  all  <he 
preachers,  with  whom  I  had  ever  associated,  this  man  possessed  the 
greatest  share  of  my  affection.  His  tender,  innocent,  child-like  dispo- 
sition, not  only  endeared  him  to  me,  but  to  all  who  were  acquainted 
with  his  worth.  My  hostess  was  charmed  to  learn,  that  I  was  known 
to  Mr.  Tucker :  I  solicited  her  to  direct  me  to  his  residence,  but  when 
she  informed  me,  that,  by  the  death  of  his  father,  he  had  recently  come 
into  possession  of  thirty  thousand  pounds  sterling,  I  became  apprehen- 
sive I  should  not  be  recognised.  But  I  had  occasion  to  reproach  my- 
self for  my  suspicions,  for  no  sooner  was  I  conducted  to  his  dwelling, 
than  he  caught  me  in  his  arms,  and  expressed  the  highest  satisfaction. 


ilBE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  67 

Upon  introducing  me  to  his  lady,  he  said  :  "  My  dear,  this  young  man 
is  the  eldest  son  of  one  of  the  best  men  I  ever  knew.  No  man  ever 
possessed  a  larger  share  of  my  venerating  affection  :  I  love  this  young 
person  as  his  son,  and  1  love  him  for  himself ;  and  when  you,  my  dear, 
know  him  as  I  do,  the  goodness  of  your  own  heart  will  compel  you  to 
love  him  as  I  do."  How  highly  gratifying  all  this  to  me,  at  such  a 
time,  in  such  a  place,  and  in  the  presence  of  the  lady,  whose  guest  I 
•was  1  but  I  must  be  her  guest  no  longer  ;  this  warrn-hearted  friend 
of  my  father,  and  of  myself,  would  not  allow  me  to  leave  his  house  nor 
the  city  for  a  long  season  ;  indeed,  it  was  greatly  against  his  will,  that  I 
left  Bath  when  1  did.  I  promised,  I  would  call  every  day  upon  my 
worthy  host,  and  hostess,  which  promise  I  punctually  performed.  Mr. 
Tucker  insisted  upon  my  giving  them  a  discourse  in  the  church  in  which 
he^officiated  ;  for,  although  possessed  of  an  independent  fortune,  he  yet 
continued  to  preach  to  the  people.  On  Sunday,  then,  I  preached  in  the 
city  of  Bath,  to  great  acceptation.  My  host  and  hostess  (the  hospitable 
hay-maker  and  wife)  were  present,  and  felicitated  themselves  that 
they  had  introduced  a  man,  so  much  approved. 

My  Reverend  friend  conducted  me  from  place  to  place,  showing  me 
every  thing  curious  in  that  opulent  resort  of  the  nobility.  It  was  to 
this  faithful  friend  that  I  communicated,  in  confidence,  the  difficulties 
under  which  I  laboured,  respecting  my  religious  principles.  I  observed 
to  him,  that  I  could  not,  with  a  good  conscience,  reprobate  doctrines, 
which,  as  I  firmly  believed  originated  with  God,  nor  advocate  senti- 
ments diametrically  opposite  to  what  I  considered  as  truth.  On  this 
account  I  could  not  cordially  unite  with  Mr.  Wesley,  or  his  preachers. 
Mr.  Tucker  saw  the  force  of  my  objections  ;  nay,  he  felt  them  too, 
for  he  was  at  that  instant  nearly  in  the  same  predicament  with  myself. 
Yet  we  could  not  hit  upon  an  expedient  to  continue  in  the  connexion, 
and  preserve  our  integrity.  My  anxiety,  however,  to  reach  the 
capital  compelled  me  to  press  forward  ;  and  my  kind  friend,  convinced 
I  was  not  to  be  prevailed  upon  further  to  delay  my  departure,  en- 
gaged a  place  in  the  coach  for  me,  discharging  all  the  attendant  ex- 
penses, and  placing,  besides,  a  handsome  gratuity  in  my  pocket.  Of 
my  first  host  and  hostess  I  took  a  friendly  leave,  gratitude  has  stamped 
their  images  upon  my  bosom  ;  I  left  them,  and  my  other  kind  friends, 
in  tears  ;  we  commended  each  other  to  the  kind  God,  who,  in  his  own 
way,  careth  for  us.  I  have  since  been  greatly  astonished,  indeed  I 
was  at  the  time  surprised,  at  my  thus  hastening  to  quit  a  place,  where 
I  was  furnished  with  every  thing,  my  heart  ought  to  have  desired^ 


68  LIFE    OF    REV.  JOHN    MURRAY. 

when  the  prospect  before  me  was  at  least  uncertain  ;  but  I  have  been, 
all  my  days,    a  mystery  to    myself,  nor    is  this  mystery  yet  unravelled. 
I  retired   this  night   to  bed,  but  did  not  close  my  eyes,  until  near   the 
dawn  of  day;  yet  my  reflections  upon  my  pillow  were  charming;  I 
clearly  saw  the   good  hand  of  God,   in  all  my  movements  ;  I  was  en- 
chanted with  every  thing  I  had  seen,  and  with  the  prospect  of  what  I 
had  still  to  see.     O !  how  sweet,  in  early  life,   are   those   sensations, 
which  are  the  offspring  of  vigorous  hope ;  how  great  are   the  joys  of 
expectation  !     No  one  ever  derived  more  high-wrought  pleasures  from 
hope,  than  myself.    I  quitted  my  bed  just  at  the  dawn  of  day,  after  a 
refreshing  slumber ;  I  had  apprized  the  people  at  the  stage   house,   the 
evening  before,  that  I  should  walk  on,  and  let  the  stage  overtake  me  ; 
this  I  did,   and  a  most   delightful  walk  I  had.     I  met  the  Aurora,  the 
rising  sun,  the  waking  songsters  of  the  hedges,  the  lowing   tenants   of 
the  mead,  the  lusty  labourer,  with  his  sithe,  preparing  to  cut  down  the 
bending  burden  of  the  flowery  meadow.     The  increasing   beauty    of 
the  surrounding  scenes,  the  fragrant  scent  of  the  new-mowed  hay,    all, 
all,  were  truly  delightful,  and  thus  enchanted,  with  spirits  light  as  air, 
I  passed  on,   till   I   reached  the  Devizes,   nineteen   miles   from  Bath, 
where,  after  I  had  breakfasted,  the  coach  overtook  me,  in  which  I  was 
soon  seated,  finding  a  ride,  after  walking,  more  abundantly  refreshing;  we 
rolled  over  the  finest  road  in  the  world,    with  such   rapidity,    that  we 
reached  London  before  sunset.     How    much  was  my  heart  elated,  as  I 
passed  over  this  charming  country  ;  how  did  it  palpitate  with  pleasure, 
as  I  advanced    toward  the  Metropolis  ;  yet  still  I  had   no  fixed  plan, 
nor  knew  I  what  I  should  do,  or  whither  repair  !     True,  I  had  some 
letters  to  deliver,  but,  in  the  hurry  of  my  spirits,  I  had  forgotten  them  ; 
and  on  being  set  down  at  the  stage  house  in  London,  I  left  my  trunk 
without  a  single  line  of  intimation  to  whom  it  belonged,  and  wandered 
about  the   city,  feasting  my  eyes    with  the  variety,  which  it  presented, 
"  till   twilight  grey  had,  in  her  sober   livery,  all  things  clad,"   when  I 
began  to  turn  my  thoughts  towards  a  shelter  for  the  night.     I  entered  a 
tavern,     requesting  a    supper,  and   a  lodging,   both  of  which    were 
readily  granted  ;  I  sat  pensive,   I  was  weary,    my  spirits  sunk,    T    eat 
little,  and  retiring  to  my  chamber,  after  securing  the  door,  T  fell  on  my 
knees,  beseeching  the  Father  of  mercies  to  have  compassion  upon  me. 
I  wept,    I  wished  myself  at  home,  and  my  heart  seemed  to  die  within 
me,  at  the  consideration  that   T  could  not  return,  without  fulfilling  the 
predictions  of  my  matron  friend  :  **  You  will  return,"  said  she,  "  and 
perhaps  fiad  this  door  shut  against  you."    Never,  said  I,  never;  I  will 


I.II»E  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 


die  first.  This  was  the  most  melancholy  night,  I  had  passed,  since 
I  left  the  dwelling  of  my  mother.  I  arose  in  the  morning  unre- 
freshed,  I  inquired  where  the  stage  put  up,  I  had  forgotten  ;  I  told 
myliost,!  had  left  my  trunk  at  the  stage-house.  He  soon  found  the  place, 
but  he  despaired  of  ever  obtaining  my  trunk  ;  I  recovered  it  however, 
and  a  porter  took  it  to  my  lodgings,  there  I  believed  it  safe,  although  1 
knew  nothing  of  the  people.  I  recollected  where  I  had  lived,  wrhen 
with  my  father  in  this  city  ;  thither  I  repaired  ;  but  although  there 
were  remaining  individuals  who  remembered  him,  no  one  recognised 
me.  I  was  however  kindly  noticed,  for  his  sake,  and  soon  introduced  to 
many,  by  whom  I  was  much  caressed.  From  this  I  reaped  no  benefit  : 
a  few  of  my  Methodist  friends,  whom  I  had  known  in  Ireland,  visited 
me,  but,  seeing  me  in  company  which  they  did  not  approve,  they  stood 
aloof  from  me.  In  the  judgment  of  Mr.  Wesley,  and  his  adherents, 
my  principles  were  against  me.  They  did  not  believe  any  man  could 
be  pious,  who  believed  the  doctrine  of  predestination.  I  remember, 
some  time  after  the  death  of  my  father,  sitting  with  Mr.  Wesley  in  the 
house  of  my  mother,  and  conversing  on  this  truly  interesting  subject  ; 
I  ventured  to  remark,  that  there  were  some  good  men,  who  had  given 
their  suffrage  in  favour  of  the  doctrine  of  Election,  and  I  produced  my 
father,  as  an  instance,  when,  laying  his  hand  upon  my  shoulder,  with 
great  earnestness,  lie  said  :  "  My  dear  lad,  believe  me,  there  never  was 
a  man  in  this  world,  who  believed  the  doctrine  of  Calvin,  but  the  lan- 
guage of  his  heart  was,  '  I  may  live  as  I  list.'  "  It  was,  as  I  have  be- 
fore observed,  generally  believed,  that  I  inherited  the  principles  of  my 
father.  The  Methodists  in  London  were  afraid  of  me,  and  I  was  afraid 
of  them,  we  therefore,  as  if  by  mutual  consent,  avoided  each  other  ; 
my  wish  to  attach  myself  to  Mr.  Whitefield  was  still  paramount  in  my 
bosom,  but  Mr.  Whitefield  was  not  at  home,  and  it  was  unfortunate 
for  me  that  he  was  not.  Every  day  I  was  more  and  more  distinguish- 
ed ;  but  it  was  by  those,  whose  neglect  of  me  would  have  been  a  mer- 
cy :  by  their  nominal  kindness  I  was  made  to  taste  of  pleasures,  to 
which  I  had  before  been  a  stranger,  and  those  pleasures  were  eagerly 
zested.  I  became  what  is  called  very  good  company,  and  I  resolved 
to  see,  and  become  acquainted  with  life  ;  yet  I  determined,  my  knowl- 
edge of  the  town,  and  its  pleasures,  should  not  affect  my  standing  in 
the  religious  world.  But  I  was  miserably  deceived  ;  gradually,  my 
former  habits  seem.-d  to  fade  from  my  recollection.  To  my  new 
connexions  I  gave,  and  received  froin  them,  what  I  then  believed 
pleasure,  without  alloy.  Of  music,  and  dancing,  I  was  very  fond,  and 


70  UFE  OF  REV.  JOHtt  MURRAY. 

I  delighted   in  convivial  parties  ;    Vaux-hall,  the  play-houses,  were 
charming,;  I  had  never  known  life  before.     It  is  true,  my  secret  Men- 
tor sometimes  embittered  my  enjoyments  ;  the  precepts,  the  example  of 
my  father  stared  me  in  the  face  ;  the  secret  sigh  of  my  bosom  arose,  as 
I  mournfully  reflected  on  what  I  had  lost.    But  I  had  not  sufficient  re- 
solution to  retrace  my  steps  ;  indeed  I  had  little  leisure.     I  was  in  a 
perpetual  round  of  company  ;  I  was  intoxicated  with  pleasure  ;   I  was 
invited  into  one  society,  and  another,  until  there  was  hardly  a  society 
in  London,  of  which  I  was  not  a  member.     How  long  this  life  of  dis- 
sipation would  have  lasted,   had  not  my  resources  failed,  I  know  not. 
I  occasionally  encountered  one,  and  another,   of  my  religious  connex- 
ions, who  seriously  expostulated  with  me  ;  but  I  generally  extorted 
from  them   a  laugh,  which  ultimately  induced  them  to  shun  me.     I 
had  an  interview  with  Mr.  Barnstable,  a  preacher  in   Mr.    Wesley's 
connexion,  and  questioning  him  respecting  many,  whom  I  had  known, 
he  informed  me,   that  Mr.  Trinbath,  at  whose  house  T  had  passed  so 
delightful  an  evening  with  Mr.  Whitefield,  in  the  city  of  Cork,  was  no 
more  !     His  beautiful  wife  had  quitted  her  husband,  her  children,  and 
her  mother,  and   accompanied  a  private  soldier  to  America  !  !  !     Her 
doting    husband,  thus  cruelly  deceived,  lost  first  his  reason,  and  after- 
wards his  life.     Mr.  Barnstable  inquired,    what  had   become  of  me  so 
long  ;  and,  after  severely  admonishing  me,  he  pronounced  upon  me  an 
anathema,  and  quitted  me.  It  will  be  supposed,  I  was  not  much  pleased 
with  him,  and,  assuredly,  I  was  at  variance  with  myself  ;  and  above  all. 
I  was  grievously  afflicted  for  the  misfortunes,   and  death  of  the  once 
happy  Trinbath.    It  has  often  been  matter  of  astonishment  to  me,  how, 
after  such  a  religious  education  as  1  had  received  ;  after  really,  vitally 
entering  into  the  spirit  of  the  life,  to  which  I  \\as  from  infancy  habitu- 
ated; after  feelingly  bearing  my  public  testimony  against  the  follies,  and 
the  dissipation  of  the  many,  I  should  so  entirely  renounce  a  life  of  seri- 
ous piety,  and  embrace  a  life  of  frolic,  a  life  of  whim  !     It  is  also  won- 
derful, that,  thus  changed,  I  proceeded  no  further  ;  that  I  was  guilty  of* 
no  flagrant  vices  ;  that  I  was  drawn  into  no  fatal  snares.     Many  were 
the  devices  employed  to  entangle  me  ;  which  devices   I  never  deliber- 
ately sought  to   avoid.     Doubtless,  I  was  upheld  by  the  good  hand  of* 
God  :  for  which  sustaining  power  my  full  soul  offers  its  grateful  orisons. 
I  pursued  this  inconsiderate,  destructive  course,  upwards  of  a  year, 
never  permanently  reflecting  where  I  was,  or  how  I  should  terminate 
my  career.     My  money  was  nearly  exhausted  :  but  this    was   beneath 
my  consideration  :  and,  as  I  have  said,  serious  reflection  was  arrested  by 


LIFE  OF  EEV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  71 

large  circles  of  friends  successively  engaging  me,  either  abroad,  or  at 
home,  in  town,  or  in  the  country.  Thus  did  my  life  exhibit  a  constant 
tissue  of  folly,  and  indiscretion.  But  the  time  of  my  emancipation 
drew  near ;  a  demand,  which  I  had  barely  sufficient  to  answer,  was 
made  upon  me  by  my  tailor  ;  I  started,  and  stood  for  some  time  mo- 
tionless. The  money,  which  I  believed  would  never  be  expended,  was 
already  gone.  I  saw  no  method  of  recruiting  my  finances,  and  I  stood 
appalled,  when,  at  this  distressing  moment,  a  gay  companion  broke  in 
upon  me  ;  he  was  on  his  way  to  the  Club  ;  )there  was  to  be  grand 
doings  :  Jphn  Wilkes,  esquire,  was  that  night  to  become  a  member. 
I  instantly  forgot  every  thing  of  a  gloomy  nature,  and  went  off  as  light, 
as  a  feathered  inhabitant  of  the  air.  I  never  was  fond  of  the  pleasures 
of  the  bottle,  of  social  pleasures  no  one  more  so  ;  and,  that  I  might  en- 
joy society  with  an  unbroken  zest,  I  have  frequently  thrown  the  wine 
under  the  table,  rejoicing  that  I  thus  preserved  my  reason. 

This  period  of  my  life  had  so  much  of  variety,  and  yet  so  much 
of  sameness,  that  a  picture  of  a  week  would  be  nearly  a  complete  exhi- 
bition of  all  my  deviations.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  I  plunged  into  the 
vortex  of  pleasure,  greedily  grasping  at  enjoyments,  which  both  my 
habits  and  my  circumstances  should  have  taught  me  to  shun.  Upon 
this  subject  I  do  not  love  to  dwell  ;  if  possible,  I  would  erase  it  from 
my  recollection  ;  and  yet,  I  derive  abundant  satisfaction,  from  the  mani- 
festation of  Divine  Goodness,  so  strikingly  exemplified,  through  the 
whole  of  my  wanderings,  in  preserving  me,  by  the  strong  arm  of  the 
Almighty,  from  numerous  evils  to  which,  in  the  society  I  frequented, 
and  in  the  city  where  I  resided,  I  was  hourly  exposed.  But,  as  I  said, 
necessity,  imperious  necessity,  compelled  me  to  pause  ;  and  it  was,  in 
truth,  a  blessed  necessity.  Had  I  been  inclined  to  forget,  that  my  whole 
stock  was  expended,  the  frequent  calls  made  upon  me  for,  monies, 
which  I  could  not  pay,  would  have  constituted  a  uniform,  and  impres- 
sive memento.  My  embarrassments  were  soon  rumoured  abroad  ;  and 
although  I  had  many  friends,  who  appeared  to  regard  money  as  little  as 
myself,  who,  declaring  they  could  not  exist  without  me,  insisted  upon 
my  being  of  their  parties,  yet  a  consciousness  of  dependence  rendered 
me  wretched,  while  indirect  remarks,  thrown  out  by  some  individuals, 
served  to  increase  my  wretchedness.  Easter  holy-days  are,  in  England, 
days  of  conviviality.  Parties  of  pleasure  were  every  where  forming. 
My  connexions  were  hastening  to  my  favourite  retreat,  Richmond  ;  in- 
clination led  me  to  join  them  ;  but  they  either  were  not,  or  I  suspected 
they  were  not,  as  usual,  warm  in  their-solicitations,  and  I  declined  a  less 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN -MURRAY. 

importunate  invitation.  I,  however,  took  a  solitary  walk,  and  I  met 
reflection  on  the  way.  I  had  in  the  world  but  one  half-penny,  and  a 
mendicant,  asking  alms,  crossed  my  path  ;  1  gave  him  my  half-penny, 
and  walked  on,  till,  passing  out  of  the  city,  I  advanced  into  the  fields. 
I  began  to  feel  exhausted  ;  and,  under  the  wide  spreading  shade  of  a 
tree,  I  sat  me  down.  I  continued,  for  some  time,  in  a  state  of  fixed 
despair,  regardless  of  life  and  every  thing  which  it  had  to  bestow.  The 
eye  of  retrospection  ran  over  past  scenes  ;  I  remembered  my  father's 
house,  and  the  plenty  which,  particularly  at  this  season,  reigned  there. 
This  was  nearly  the  anniversary  of  his  death;  the  mournful  scene  passed 
in  review  before  me  ;  his  paternal  advice,  his  paternal  prayers  flashed 
upon  my  soul  ;  the  eye  of  my  mind  dwelt  upon  the  family  I  had  deser- 
ted. Oh  !  could  they  now  behold  me  !  Would  they  not  be  gratitied  ? 
I  hoped  they  would  ;  their  pity  would  have  pained  most  exquisitely. 
Still  my  emotions  were  not  of  an  ameliorating  description ;  my  heart  was 
indurated,  and,  had  I  possessed  the  means,  I  should  have  proceeded  in 
the  path  of  destruction.  At  length  I  Deemed  awakened  to  a  full  sense  of 
the  horrors  of  my  situation  ;  my  heart  throbbed  with  anguish  as  T  spon- 
taneously exclaimed  :  Am  I  the  son  of  such  a  man,  the  son  of  such  pa- 
rents ?  am  I  that  pious  youth  so  much,  and  by  so  many  admired  ?  am 
I  the  preacher,  who  at  so  early  a  period  preached  to  others,  drawing 
tears  from  the  eyes  of  those  who  heard  me  ?  And  is  it  thus  my  jour- 
ney to  England  terminates  ?  am  I  now  alone,  and  unfriended,  without 
an  extricating  hand  to  save  me  ?  Whither,  ah  !  whither  shall  I  go, 
and  what  step  is  now  to  be  taken  ?  At  this  moment,  the  voice  of  con- 
solation vibrated  upon  my  mental  ear  :  "  Imitate  the  prodigal  of  old, 
Arise,  and  go  unto  your  Father ;  say,  I  have  sinned  against  heaven,  and  in 
thy  sight,  I  am  no  longer  worthy  to  be  called  thy  son  :  but  beseech  Him, 
nevertheless,  to  receive  you  into  his  service."  This  counsel,  proceeding 
from  a  quarter,  from  which  I  had  not  for  a  long  season  heard,  deeply 
affected  me,  and  bitterly  did  I  weep,  in  the  dread  of  that  refusal,  which, 
should  I  venture  to  follow  the  guidance  of  the  monitor  within,  I  was, 
alas  1  but  too  certain  of  receiving.  A  thousand  thoughts,  like  a  swarm 
of  insects,  buzzed  around  me,  but  no  thought  gave  me  peace.  How 
exquisite  was  the  torture,  which  at  this  moment  I  suffered.  But  the 
approach  of  evening  roused  me  to  a  conviction  of  the  necessity  of  mov- 
ing ;  but  whither  should  I  go  ?  that  was  the  question.  "  Suppose," 
said  my  invisible  monitor,  "  you  go  to  the  tabernacle  ?"  and,  bursting 
.into  a  flood  of  tears,  I  said,  Yes.  I  will  present  myself  among  the  multi- 
tude— yes,  I  will  go  ;  but  how  shall  I  meet  the  eye  of  any  individual, 


LIFE  OF  RSV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  73 

who  has  formerly  known  me  ?  how  dare  I  stand  among  the  worshippers 
of  that  God,  whom  I  have  so  grossly  offended  ?  Yet  I  will  go  ;  and, 
with  slow  and  mournful  steps,  I  walked  forward.  The  congregration 
had  assembled.  I  entered,  taking  my  stand  under  the  gallery.  I  dared 
not  raise  my  eyes  ;  they  were  bathed  in  tears.  Mr.  Whitefield,  in  his 
u^ual,  energetic  manner,  addressed  his  audience  ;  but  no  sound  of  con- 
solation reached  me.  At  last  he  said  :  "  But  there  may  be,  in  some  cor- 
ner of  this  house,  a  poor,  desponding,  despairing  soul,  who,  having  sin- 
ned, greatly  sinned  against  God  and  against  himself,  may  be  afraid  to 
lift  toward  Heaven  his  guilty  eye  ;  he  may,  at  this  moment,  be  suffering 
the  dreadful  consequences  of  his  wandering  from  the  source  of  true  hap- 
piness ;  and  possibly  he  may  apprehend  he  shall  never  be  permitted 
to  return  !  If  there  be  any  one  of  this  description  present,  I  have  to  in- 
form such  individual,  that  God  is  still  his  loving  Father  ;  that  He  says, 
Return  unto  me,  my  poor,  backsliding  child,  and  I  will  heal  your  back- 
slidings,  and  love  you  freely.  What  message  shall  I  return  my  Mas- 
ter from  you,  my  poor,  afflicted,  Avandering,  weeping  brother  'I  shall  I 
say.  you  are  suitably  penetrated  by  his  gracious  invitation,  and  that  you 
would  come  with  weeping,  and  supplication  ;  that  you  would  tly  with 
gratitude,  and  prostrate  yourself  before  Him,  were  you  not  so  much 
injured  by  your  wanderings;  that  you  feel  you  are  not  able,  and  that 
you  should  blush  to  ask  his  assistance  ?  Is  this  your  message  ?  poor, 
poor  soul  !  never  fear,  your  gracious  Father  will  shortly  send  you  every 
needful  aid."  All  this  was  said  to  me  ;  at  least,  to  my  wondering  spi- 
rit, it  thus  appeared  ;  and  I  seemed  as  if  expiring,  amid  the  mingling 
emotions  of  regret,  apprehension,  and  hope. 

1  left  the  tabernacle  under  these  potent  impressions ;  and,crossing  Moor- 
fields,  I  was  overtaken  by  one  of  my  old  religious  connexions,  who,  re- 
garding me  with  wonder,  said,  "  Am  I  so  happy  as  to  see  you,  one  of  ih« 
many  who  where  at  the  tabernacle  this  evening  ?"  My  reply  was  indica- 
tive of  the  sorrow  of  my  heart.  He  proceeded  to  make  many  remarks, 
until,  in  the  moment  of  separation,  he  said,  "  Well,  my  friend,  perhaps, 
you  will  go,  from  hence,  into  company  where  you  will  forget  all  that  you 
have  this  evening  heard."  My  heart  was  very  full ;  and  from  its  abun- 
dance I  said,  No,  never  will  I  again  mingle  in  circles  calculated  to  efface 
impressions,  which  I  will  chervil  to  the  latest  hour  of  my  existence. 
Let  these  tears,  these  fast-falling  tears,  evince  my  sincerity.  My  friend 
rejoiced  in  the  prospect  of  my  returning  to  the  path,  from  which  1  had 
wandered;  but  he  rejoiced  with  fear  and  trembling.  He  knew  my 
con  noxious  were  numerous,  and  that  myxvivacity  rendered  me  the  lif»; 


74  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

of  those  convivial  circles,  where  I  had  so  long  figured.  But  the  grace 
of  God  upheld  me,  and  never,  from  that  moment,  did  I  unite  with 
those  associates,  from  which  I  was  at  first  separated  by  necessity. 

I  was  now  an  insulated  being.  I  carefully  avoided  my  former  com- 
panions, and  my  religious  connexions  avoided  me  ;  thus  I  had  no\r 
abundant  leisure  for  reflection..  Some  time  elapsed,  before  the  change, 
which  had  taken  place,  reached  the  extremity  of  those  circles,  in  which  I 
had  moved.  Many  who  heard,  lent  no  credence  to  a  report,  which 
they  believed  without  foundation.  The  greater  number  of  those  laugh- 
ter-loving beings,  who  had  attached  themselves  to  me,  never  having  im- 
bibed any  religious  sentiments,  had  not  learned  the  habits  of  my  former 
life.  Many  individuals  called  upon  me  as  usual,  and  found  me  a  differ- 
ent man,  from  him,  whom  they  had  been  accustomed  to  see.  A  few, 
suspecting  the  cause,  sought  to  relieve  my  mind,  by  warm,  and  liberal 
assurances  of  never-failing  friendship ;  and  they  generously  tendered  the 
unlimited  use  of  their  purses  !  I  made  my  acknowledgments  ;  but 
assured  them,  the  whole  world,  as  a  bribe,  would  be  insufficient  to 
lead  me  again  into  paths  of  folly.  I  was  not,  I  said,  unhappy  because 
I  no  longer  possessed  ability  to  run  the  career  of  error,  certainly  not  ; 
my  infelicity  originated,  from  the  consideration,  that  1  had  ever  receded 
from  the  paths  of  peace.  Some  resented  my  remarks,  as  a  tacit  insult 
upon  themselves  ;  others  ridiculed  me,  and  pronounced  me  under  the 
influence  of  a  strong  delirium  ;  and  two  or  three,  who  still  loved  me 
too  wrell  to  separate  themselves  from  me,  were,  for  a  time,  induced  to 
reflect  seriously  upon  their  own  situation  :  but  these,  also,  shortly  dis- 
appeared ;  and,  of  the  numerous  triflers,  \\dth  whom  I  had* so  many 
months  fluttered,  not  a  single  loiterer  remained  ;  and  most  devoutly 
did  I  render  thanks  to  Almighty  God,  for  extricating  me  from  such 
associates.  I  boarded  in  the  house  of  a  very  lively,  vivacious  man  ; 
indeed,  his  whole  family  might  have  been  denominated  sons  and 
daughters  of  mirth  :  This  fact  had  been  their  principal  recommendation 
to  me,  but  it  now  added  to  the  burden  of  my  mind.  I  made  inquiry 
after  another  lodging,  but,  on  contemplating  a  removal,  difficulties,  to 
which  I  had  not  before  recurred,  stared  me  in  the  face.  I  was  consid- 
erably in  arrears  to  my  host,  and,  as  I  must  depart  in  a  different  state  of 
mind,  from  that  which  I  was  in,  when  I  became  his  lodger,  and  which 
had  impressed  him  in  my  favour  ;  I  could  not  expect  he  would  be  very 
kindly  disposed  toward  me.  I  was  indebted  to  others,  and  my  dis- 
tresses seemed  hourly  to  accumulate.  Both  present  and  future  support 
were  alike  beyond  my  reach,  and  it  appeared  to  me,  I  had  attained 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  75 

ihe  climax  of  misery.  I  closed  my  door,  1  prostrated  myself  before 
the  God  who  had  created  me,  beseeching  him  to  have  mercy  upon  me  ; 
af  ain  my  sad,  my  sorrowing  heart,  revisited  the  home  I  had  abandon- 
ed ;  stripped  of  its  allurements,  my  mad  passion  for  travelling  appear- 
ed in  its  native  deformity  ;  agonizing  dread  overtook  me,  and  my  terri- 
fied imagination  pointed  out,  and  anticipated,  a  thousand  horrors. 
Many  devices  were  suggested  to  my  forlorn  mind,  and  death  itself  was 
presented  as  my  last  resort.  But  starting  from  an  idea  so  impious,  Let 
me,  1  exclaimed,  at  least  avoid  plunging  into  irremediable  perdition. 
Thus  I  spent  the  day,  and  in  the  evening  I  attended  the  tabernacle. 
I  considered  myself,  while  there,  as  the  most  destitute  individual  in  the 
whole  assembly.  I  generally  occupied  a  remote  corner,  my  arms  were 
folded,  my  eyes  cast  down,  and  my  tears  flowing ;  indeed,  my  eyes  were 
seldom  dry,  and  my  heart  was  always  full ;  for,  at  this  period  of  my 
life,  I  rarely  tasted  any  thing  like  consolation.  Coming  out  of  the  tab- 
ernacle, one  evening,  a  serious  young  man  thus  accosted  me  :  "  Cheer 
up,  thou  weeping,  sorrowing  soul — be  of  good  cheer,  thy  God  will  save 
thee."  I  caught  his  hand  ;  God  bless  you,  my  dear  sir,  whoever  you 
are  !  but  you  do  not  know  to  whom  you  are  speaking.  "  Oh  yes,  I 
am  speaking  to  a  sinner,  like  myself."  No,  no,  I  returned,  the  wide 
world  does  not  contain  so  great  a  sinner  as  myself ;  for,  in  the  face  of  an 
education,  calculated  to  eradicate  every  evil  propensity  ;  and  of  pre- 
cepts, and  examples,  drawn  from  our  most  holy  religion,  which  ought 
to  have  rendered  me  a  uniform  servant  of  the  Most  High  ;  I  have  ming- 
led in  circles,  consisting  of  the  idle,  the  dissipated,  and  the  profane  ;  I 
have  run  the  career  of  folly,  and  the  anguish  of  my  soul  is  a  consequence 
of  my  manifold  offences.  The  kind-hearted  young  man,  strove  to  pour 
into  my  wounds  the  oil  and  wine  of  consolation.  We  walked  togeth- 
er, quite  through  Moorfields  ;  at  his  request,  I  promised  to  meet  him 
at  the  tabernacle  the  ensuing  evening,  and  I  was  greatly  impatient  for 
the  appointed  time.  Passing  Moorfields,  agreeably  to  my  engage- 
ments, I  beheld  a  large  congregation  assembled  to  hear  one  of  Mr. 
Wesley's  preachers  :  I  tarried  until  I  saw  the  preacher  mount  the 
stage,  but  what  were  my  emotions,  when  I  recognised  him,  of  whom  I 
was  so  fond,  in  the  house  of  Mr.  Little,  and  who  first  introduced  me  as 
a  public  speaker.  I  hastily  withdrew  from  the  place,  terrified,  lest  his 
eye  should  meet  mine  ;  but  my  soul  was  tortured  by  the  comparison  of 
what  I  was,  when  I  first  saw  him,  with  my  present  situation.  I  was 
this  evening  much  affected  ;  indeed,  it  was  impossible  for  any  child  of 
sorrow  to  attend  upon  Mr.  Whitefield"  without  feelings  of  the  most 


70  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

impressive  nature.  I  looked  around  for  my  companion  of  the  past 
evening,  but  I  saw  him  not  ;  and  I  was  pained  by  the  disappointment. 
On  my  departing  from  the  tabernacle,  however,  he  again  took  my  hand, 
assuring  me,  he  was  glad  to  see  me,  and  repeating  a  verse  of  a  hymn  : 
"  We  shall  not  always  make  our  moan,"  &c.  &c.  which  hymn,  1  had 
often  sang/ and  of  which  I  was  very  fond.  I  melted  into  tears  ;  this 
man  appeared  to  me,  as  an  angel  of  God,  and  most  devoutly  did  I 
bless  the  Father  of  my  spirit,  for  sending  me  such  a  comforter.  I  wras 
in  haste  to  unbosom  myself  to  him,  to  make  him  acquainted  with  the 
extent  of  my  errors  ;  but  this  was  a  subject,  upon  which  he  did  not 
seem  in  haste  to  hear  me.  He,  however,  urged  me  to  draw  consola- 
tion from  the  promises  of  our  God,  which  he  pronounced  all  yea,  and 
amen,  in  the  Redeemer  :  He  also  expressed  a  wish  to  meet  me,  at  the 
table  of  the  Lord,  upon  the  following  Sunday  ;  for  this,  my  own  heart 
ardently  panted,  and  I  engaged,  if  possible,  to  obtain  a  ticket  of  admit- 
tance. My  concern  for  my  very  reprehensible  aberrations,  as  they  af- 
fected my  spiritual  interest,  so  completely  occupied  my  mind,  that  I 
had  little  leisure  for  reflection  upon  my  pecuniary  embarrassments,  yet 
my  circumstances  were  truly  deplorable.  I  was  in  debt,  without  the 
means  of  making  payment,  nor  had  I  any  prospect  of  future  support. 
I  disdained  to  ask  charity,  and  the  business,  of  which  I  had  obtained  a 
superficial  knowledge  in  Ireland,  was  not  encouraged  in  London.  The 
friend,  whom  I  first  saw  at  the  tabernacle,  had  continued  a  vigilant  ob- 
server of  my  conduct;  he  had  frequently  visited  me,  and  my  eyes  con- 
vinced him  I  was  no  longer  the  gay,  inconsiderate  wanderer,  but  truly 
a  man  of  sorrow.  Compassionating  my  sufferings,  he  invited  me  to  his 
pleasant  home,  and,  in  a  voice  of  friendship,  requested  I  would  pour  into 
his  bosom  all  my  griefs.  I  did  so,  and  his  resolution  was  instantly  ta- 
ken. To  my  great  consolation,  he  engaged  to  procure  me,  immediate- 
ly, another  lodging,  to  make  my  present  landlord  easy,  and  to  procure 
for  me,  if  I  was  willing,  the  means  of  future  support  ;  and  this,  without 
rendering  me  dependent,  except  upon  my  own  regular  efforts,  and  the 
Being,  who  had  called  me  into  existence.  Let  the  feeling  heart  judge 
of  the  indescribable  transports,  which  this  conversation  originated  in  my 
soul.  Gratitude  swelled  in  my  boscv.i  ;  1  experienced  all  its  sweet  en- 
thusiasm ;  and  hardly  could  I  control  my  impatience,  for  the  execu- 
tion of  a  plan,  in  every  view  so  desirable.  The  lodging  was  immedi- 
ately obtained  ;  it  was  at  the  house  of  an  old  lady,  in  Bishopgate's 
street,  where  was  appropriated  solely  to  my  use,  a  neat,  and  well  fur- 
nished apartment.  The  succeeding  morning,  this  benevolent  gentle- 


LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  77 

man  attended  me  to  my  late  lodging,  when,  inquiring  the  amount  of  my 
debt,  T  was  answered,  "  Not  a  penny."     I  stood  amazed.     "  No,"  said 
my  good-natured  host,  "  not  a  penny.     But  pray  what  is  the  matter, 
where  have  you  been,  where  are  you  going  ?     O  !  dear,  O  !  dear,  these 
abominable  Methodists  have  spoiled  as  clever  a  fellow,  as  ever   broke 
bread  ;  I  suppose  you  think  we  are  not  good  enough  for  you,  and  so 
you  wish  to  leave  us."     I  was  greatly  affected.     Excuse  me,  sir  ;  I  do 
not  believe  myself  a  whit  better  than  you ;  but,  sir,  I  am  afraid  of  myself. 
"  Ah  !  you  have  no  occasion  :  I  am  sorry  you  are  going,  upon  my  soul 
I  am.     You  ought  to  stay  and  convert  me."     Ah  !  sir,  it  is  God,  who 
must  convert  both  you,   and  me.     We  shed  tears   at  parting  ;  but  our 
tears  flowed  from  a  different  source.     He  wept,  that  he  should  no  more 
be  amused  with  the  whim  and  frolic  of  a  gay  young  man  ;  I,  that  I  had 
ever  sojourned  in  his  house.     I   was,  however,   suitably  impressed  by 
his  kindness,  although  our  intercourse  from  this  moment  entirely  ceased. 
The  following  week,   I  obtained  a  situation,  as  one  of  the  aids  to  an 
inspector  of  a  broadcloth  manufactory  ;   I  was  glad  to  obtain  employ- 
ment at  any  rate.      Yet  it  is  a  fact,  I  was  never  designed  for  a  man  of 
business.     Nor  was  I  fully  satisfied  with  my  associates  ;  they  were  not 
in  my  way,  and  they,  therefore,  made  me  a  subject  of  ridicule  ;  this,  to 
weak  minds,   is  perhaps  a  species   of  persecution,  of  all  others  the 
most  difficult  to  endure.     I  certainly  suffered  much  from  it  ;  but,  if  I 
could  obtain  no  satisfaction  with  them,   I   had  the  more,    whenever  I 
left  them,  which  was  upon  the  evening  of  every  day,  and  the  whole  of 
Sunday.     I  was  delighted  by  the  consideration,  that  I  was  living  by 
my  own  exertions,  and  in  a  way  to  discharge  debts,  which  were  a 
heavy  burden  upon  my  mind.     I  lived  frugally,  retrenching  every  su- 
perfluity, and  uniformly  denying  myself  all,  but  the  absolute  necessaries- 
of  life ;  and  I  had  very  soon  the  felicity  of  knowing,  that  I  had  no 
longer  a  creditor.     This  complete  exoneration  was  followed  by  a  new- 
ly  revived  and  ecstatic  hope,   of  being  again  admitted  to  my  father's 
house,  from  which,  I  once  feared,   I   was  eternally  excluded  :    And  I 
deemed  myself  happy,  beyond  expression   happy,  upon    comparing 
myself  with  those,  among  whom  I  was  compelled   to  live  ;  who  were 
posting,  without  concern,  in  what  I  deemed  the  road  to  ruin;  from  which 
I  had,  by  divino  favour,^een  mercifully   drawn  ;    my  bosom  swelled  „ 
with  the  most  delightful  sensations,  while  I  frequently  exclaimed,  Lord, 
why  me  ?     Why  take  me,  and  leave  these  poor,  unfortunate  beings  to 
perish  in  a  state  of  sin,  and  misery  ?     But  such  was  the  sovereign   will 
and  pleasure  of  my  God  :    he  would  have  mercy,  on  \vhoni  he   would 


78  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

have  mercy,  and  whom  he  would  be  hardened.  Sometimes,  indeed, 
my  soul  was  sick  with  doubt  and  apprehension.  When  engaged  in  the 
work  of  self-examination,  one  evil  propensity,  after  another,  which  I 
had  believed  dead,  seemed  to  revive  in  my  bosom  :  I  feared,  that  my 
faith  was  all  fancy  ;  and  that  the  hope,  which  I  encouraged,  was  the  hope 
of  the  hypocrite,  which  would  be  as  the  giving  up  of  the  ghost.  Upon 
these  occasions,  I  experienced  unutterable  anguish,  and  my  days  and 
nights  were,  with  very  little  intermission,  devoted  to  sorrow.  The  dis- 
tress, I  so  evidently  suffered,  endeared  me  to  my  new  religious  connex- 
ions ;  every  one  of  whom  endeavoured  to  administer  consolation,  en- 
couraging me  to  cherish  hope,  from  the  consideration  of  my  despair  ! 
My  life  was  now  more  active  than  it  had  ever  been,  and  my  connexions 
more  numerous.  I  was  much  occupied  by  business,  yet  my  hours  of 
devotion  were  sacred  ;  I  rose  at  four  o'clock,  in  summer  and  winter. 
My  meals  consumed  but  a  small  portion  of  time.  The  moments,  thus 
passed  by  others,  were,  by  me,  devoted  to  private  prayer.  My  evenings 
were  passed  at  the  tabernacle,  and,  when  Mr.  Whitefield  preached,  my 
soul  was  transported.  I  returned  home  exceedingly  refreshed,  and 
prostrating  myself  at  the  footstool  of  my  Maker,  I  acknowledged  with 
gratitude  the  tender  mercies  of  my  Redeemer,  who  had  graciously 
separated  me  from  those,  who  were  murdering  their  time,  and  their  pre- 
cious souls  ;  and  my  thanksgivings  were  reiterated  to  that  God,  who 
had  mercifully  rescued  me  from  enormities  so  prodigious.  Thus  roll- 
ed on  the  week,  until  Sunday  ;  to  me,  indeed,  a  holy  day,  and  one  to 
which  I  looked  forward  with  the  most  delightful  anticipations.  Upon 
this  morning,  I  arose  even  earlier  than  usual  ;  attending  either  at  the 
tabernacle,  or  at  the  chapel,  in  Tottenham-court,  at  which  places  the 
communion  was  alternately  given,  every  Sunday  morning.  Great 
numbers  attended  upon  these  occasions,  who  were  not  regular  taberna- 
cle worshippers  ;  obtaining  a  ticket  of  admittance,  they  took  their  seats. 
It  appeared  to  me,  like  a  prelibation  of  heaven.  The  Elect  of  God, 
from  every  denomination,  assembled  round  the  table  of  the  Lord  ;  a 
word  of  consolation  was  always  given,  and  an  evangelical  hymn  most 
delightfully  sung.  These  Sunday  mornings  were,  indeed,  golden  op- 
portunities ;  my  doubts  were  generally  removed,  and  I  came  home  in 
raptures.  It  was  in  such  a  peacefully  religious  frame  of  mind  as  this, 
that  I  was  passing  from  the  tabernacle,  on  a  fine  summer's  morning, 
deriving  high  satisfaction  from  the  consideration,  that  I  loved  the  breth- 
ren. I  know,  said  I,  internally,  that  I  have  passed  from  death  unto 
life,  because  I  love  the  brethren.  It  is  true,  I  felt  a  very  strong  affec- 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  79 

tion  for  those,  with  whom  I  had  communed  in  the  tabernacle  ;  but, 
passing  over  Moorfields,  I  saw  a  crowd  of  people,  collected  under  ihe 
shade  of  a  large  tree.  I  inquired  of  a  passenger,  what  occasioned  the 
assembling  of  such  a  multitude  ;  and  T  was  informed,  one  of  James 
Reily's  preachers,  was  disseminating  his  damnable  doctrines  to  the  in- 
fatuated people  !  My  soul  kindled  with  indignation  ;  and,  from  the 
abundance  of  an  heart,  overflowing  with  religious  zeal,  I  could  not 
forbear  exclaiming  :  Merciful  God  !  How  is  it,  that  Thou  wilt  suffer 
this  Demon  thus  to  proceed  ?  are  not  mankind  naturally  bad  enough,  but 
must  these  wretches  be  suffered  to  give  publicity  to  tenets,  so  perni- 
cious, so  destructive  ?  thus,  in  the  name  of  God,  doing  the  work  of  the 
Devil.  At  this  period,  I  should  have  considered  myself  highly  favour- 
ed, to  have  been  made  an  instrument,  in  the  hand  of  God,  for  taking 
the  life  of  a  man,  whom  I  had  never  heard,  nor  even  seen ;  and,  in  de- 
stroying him,  I  should  have  nothing  doubted,  that  I  had  rendered  es- 
sential service,  both  to  the  Creator  and  the  created.  I  did  not  then 
know,  how  much  I  was  leavened  with  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees ;  and 
that,  notwithstanding  my  assurance  of  having  passed  from  death,  unto 
life,  in  consequence  of  loving  the  brethren,  this  boasted  love  extended 
to  none,  but  those  of  my  own  persuasion.  I  always  returned  from  the 
tabernacle,  with  my  heart  filled  with  religious  zeal.  The  intermission 
of  public  wrorship  was  always  appropriated  to  private  devotion  ;  in  a 
word,  all  my  devotional  habits  were  restored,  and  my  Sundays  were 
an  exact  transcript  of  those,  which  I  had  passed  in  the  family  of  my 
father.  The  Sundays,  upon  which  I  took  my  seat  at  the  communion 
table,  in  the  chapel,  were  more  abundantly  fatiguing..  The  chapel 
was  some  miles  from  my  lodgings  ;  but  I  never  absented  myself,  ei- 
ther summer  or  winter,  and  I  greatly  exulted  when  I  was  the  first,  who 
appeared  within  its  consecrated  walls.  The  more  I  suffered  in  reaching 
this  place,  the  more  I  enjoyed  when  there  ;  and  often,while  passing  the 
streets  of  London,  in  the  midst  of  storms  of  rain  or  snow,  my  heart  has 
swelled  with  transport,  in  the  thought,  that  I  was  going  to  Heaven  by- 
means  of  these  difficulties,  and  trials  ;  while  the  many,  who  were  then 
sleeping,  were  suspended  over  the  pit  of  destruction,  into  which  they 
must  one  day  fall,  to  rise  again  no  more  forever.  And  why,  Oh  !  why,  1 
used  to  repeat,  am  I  snitched,  as  a  brand  from  the  burning  ;  why  am  I. 
an  offender  against  light,  against  precept,  and  example,  made  a  blessed 
heir  of  Heaven,  while  far  the  greater  part  of  my  species  are  consigned 
to  endless  misery  ?  There  were  a  number  9f  young  people,  of  both 
sexes,  who,  having  assembled  from  3  great  distance,  could  not  return 


80  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

home  after  service,  in  season  for  breakfast.  One  of  the  society  kept  a 
house  near  the  chapel,  where  individuals  thus  circumstanced  were  ac- 
commodated. There  we  often  collected,  and  our  opportunities  were 
delightful.  Being  remarkable  for  a  humble  demeanour,  I  was,  on  this 
account,  much  noticed  and  caressed  ;  and  I  rarely  quitted  the  assembly 
without  a  heart  overflowing  with  love,  and  gratitude,  toward  God  and 
His  dear  children.  I  was  not  confined  to  any  particular  place  of 
worship  ;  I  was  accustomed  to  present  myself,  at  the  stated  times,  in 
various  congregations;  wherever  I  heard  of  a  great  man,  I  made  a 
point  of  attending  upon  his  labours.  Among  the  many  places  of  pub- 
lic worship,  to  which  I  resorted,  there  was  a  Baptist  meeting,  where  I 
obtained  great  satisfaction.  The  minister  was  a  warm,  animated 
preacher,  and  the  people  uncommonly  serious.  To  this  house  many 
of  the  Tabernacle  adherents  resorted  ;  for,  at  this  time,  there  was  no  ser- 
vice at  that  place,  except  in  the  morning,  and  evening.  In  a  vestry, 
attached  to  the  Baptist  meeting,  many  of  the  congregation  met,  before 
the  commencement  of  divine  service,  and  some  of  them  alternately 
sang  and  prayed.  By  those  persons,  I  was  received  with  great  kind- 
ness ;  this  affected  me  exceedingly  ;  and  perceiving  that  it  did,  they 
loved  me  yet  more  for  the  value  1  evidently  set  upon  their  affection, 
till,  at  length,  I  became  an  object  of  general  attention.  United  plans 
were  laid  to  draw  me  out,  and  I  had  pressing  invitations  to  their  reli- 
gious societies,  and  afterwards  to  their  houses.  The  minister  distin- 
guished me  ;  solicited  me  to  visit  him  ;  and  delighted  to  speak  peace  to 
me,  both  publicly,  and  privately.  I  was  entreated  to  pray  in  the  soci- 
ety, which,  as  a  timid,  and  unpatronized  stranger,  I  had  so  recently 
entered  !  I  complied,  and  every  one  seemed  affected  ;  I  myself  was 
greatly  moved,  deeply  penetrated  by  reflection,  upon  what  I  had  been, 
and  what  I  "then  was,  and  my  soul  was  transported  by  the  considera- 
tion, that  I  was  re-admitted  into  the  society  of  the  people  of  God.  My 
presence  was  now  anxiously  expected  in  the  congregation,  and  at  the 
houses  of  many  individuals  ;  I  was  marked  by  those,  who  attended  at 
the  tabernacle,  and  many  other  places  of  worship ;  and  I  was  so  much 
caressed,  by  serious  people  of  sundry  persuasions,  that,  when  I  have 
been  asked,  what  denomination  I  was  of,  I  have  replied,  an  indepen- 
dent Baptist,  Methodist,  Churchman.  I  hardly  knew  which  of  those  I 
liked  best,  or  loved  most  ;  and  Mr.  Whitefield,  upon  whom  they  all 
occasionally  attended,  strove,  both  by  precept  and  example,  to  convince 

^  us,  that  a  difference,  respecting   non-essentials,  was  utterly  inconsistent 

i  with  the  Christian  character. 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  81 

Among  the  many,  who  extended  to  me  the  hand  of  amity,  was  a 
merchant,  who  never  appeared  so  happy,  as  when  conversing  with  me  : 
he  received  me  into  his  house,  and  employed  me  in  his  counting  room  ; 
here  I  fancied  my  circumstances  improved,  but  I  was  deceived.  This 
gentleman  was  a  mere  superficial  professor  of  Religion,  which,  when 
I  discovered,  I  determined  to  return  to  my  former  situation.  I  had 
paid  all  my  debts  ;  I  was  easy,  and  occasionally  happy,  and  I  allowed 
myself  many  little  indulgences,  which,  while  a  debtor,  I  should  have 
believed  criminal. 

The  leaving  my  new  patron  gave  me,  however,  some  pain ;  he  had 
a  very  high  opinion  of  me,  although  I  could  not  reciprocate  his  esteem. 
He  was  ambitious  of  obtaining  a  name  in  the  Church,  and,  for  this 
purpose,  he  contemplated  the  observance  of  morning  and  evening 
prayer  in  his  family  ;  but,  not  being  an  early  riser,  he  was  at  a  loss  to 
know  how  to  reconcile  his  devotions  with  his  business.  At  last  he  said: 
"  You,  my  friend,  are  accustomed  to  perform  the  honours  of  my  table. 
If  you  prolong  your  grace  at  breakfast,  it  will  answer  for  morning 
prayer  !"  Greatly  shocked,  and  completely  disgusted,  my  determina- 
tion to  quit  him  was  confirmed.  I  was  still  very  communicative,  and, 
consequently,  the  reason  of  my  departure  was  generally  known  ;  so 
that  my  once  warm  friend  was,  as  may  be  supposed,  converted  into 
a  bitter  enemy.  I  was,  however,  rather  commended,  than  censured, 
while  the  conduct  of  the  man  of  business  excited  general  contempt. 
This  gratified  me  !  alas,  the  piety  of  this  world  is  based  on  pride  ! 
I  now  became,  as  far  as  I  was  known,  an  object  of  attention  in  every 
place,  where  vital  Religion,  as  it  was  phrased,  obtaining  its  votaries. 
Mr.  Romaine,  Mr.  Jones,  and  many  other  clergymen,  distinguished 
me.  Hints  were  thrown  out  respecting  my  once  more  coming  for- 
ward as  a  public  teacher  ;  but  against  this  I  was  determined.  I  was 
astonished,  that  I  had  ever  dared  to  venture  upon  so  responsible  an  as- 
sumption !  As  the  eternal  well  being  of  the  many  was  supposed  to  rest 
with  the  preacher,  an  error  in  judgment  would  consequently  be  fatal 
to  his  hearers  ;  and,  as  I  had  now  learned  that  I  was  not  perfect  in 
knowledge,  I  could  not  be  assured,  I  should  not  lead  the  people  astray : 
in  which  tremendous  event  they  would,  to  all  eternity,  be  imprecating 
curses  on  my  head.  Considerations  of  such  magnitude  were  sufficient 
to  seal  my  lips  ;  but  I  was  characterized  as  a  pattern  of  piety,  and 
my  experiences  were  greedily  sought,  by  individuals  of  various  denom- 
inations. There  was  a  society,  belonging  to  a  Baptist  meeting,  near 
Good  Man's  fields,  which  met  statedly.at  each  other's  houses  once  eve- 


82  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

ry  week  ;  this  was  the  society,  in  which  I  was  most  admired,  and  to 
which,  of  course,  I  was  the  most  attached.  In  this  society  there  were 
individuals,  who,  like  myself,  were  tabernacle  worshippers,  but  who 
attended  this  meeting,  when  there  was  no  service  there.  I  had  sur- 
rendered up  my  whole  soul  to  those  religious  exercises,  which  the  sev- 
eral societies,  to  which  I  had  attached  myself,  demanded.  My  plan 
was  to  devote  myself  wholly  to  my  God,  to  the  advancement  of  my 
spiritual  interest,  to  considerations  pertaining  to  the  kingdom  of  heav- 
en. Wedded  life,  a  family,  these  made  no  part  of  my  plan  ;  I  was 
persuaded,  I  should  pass  my  life  in  celibacy  ;  and,  had  monastic  seclu- 
sion consisted  with  Protestantism,  I  should  gladly  have  embraced  its  re- 
tirement, with  its  duties.  In  the  society,  collected  near  Good  Man's  fields, 
there  was  a  young  gentleman  remarkable  for  the  sanctity  of  his  manners  ; 
we  were  strongly,  and  mutually  attached  to  each  other.  Many,  very 
many  happy  hours  did  we  pass  together.  During  the  winter,  we  were 
constantly  at  the  tabernacle  before  day.  We  narrated  to  each  other 
our  experiences  ;  we  prayed,  we  wept,  we  joyed,  and  sorrowed  together  ; 
and,  with  unfeigned  affection,  we  loved  one  another.  I  questioned 
him  respecting  his  connexions,  when  he  informed  me,  that  his  parents 
had  died  in  his  infancy  ;  that  he  had  been  brought  up  by  his  grand- 
father, who  was  a  very  profligate  old  gentleman,  and  abhorred  the  very 
name  of  Whitefield  !  But,  he  added,  that,  through  the  mercy  of  God, 
he  was  not  entirely  alone.  He  had  a  sister  with  him  in  the  family, 
reared  also  by  his  grand  parent,  who  was  a  good,  and  gracious  girl  ; 
that  their  nights  were  frequently  devoted  to  prayer  ;  but  that  they  dared 
not  let  their  grandfather  know  they  had  ever  been  seen  at  the  taber- 
nacle, or  in  any  of  those  societies,  from  which  they  derived  their  chief 
happiness.  Indeed,  he  observed,  his  sister  seldom  ventured  out ;  but 
he  had  made  such  representations  of  me,  that  she  had  desired  him  to 
let  her  know,  when  I  should  agajn  meet  the  Baptist  society,  and  she 
would  make  a  point  of  being  there  ;  and,  I  request  you,  said  he,  my 
dear  sir,  to  be  at  the  society  next  Sunday  evening,  and  she  will  most 
unquestionably  be  there.  I  cannot  say,  I  had  any  curiosity  respecting 
this  young  lady  ;  but  Sunday  night  came,  I  was  expected,  and  the 
great  room,  was  filled  previous  to  my  arrival.  I  entered,  every  one 
rose  at  my.,&ntraBce,  and  I  felt  dignifiedly  pious,  seriously  happy. 
My  young  friend  approached,  and  told  me,  in  a  whisper,  his  sister 
would  have  been  greatly  disappointed,  had  any  thing  detained  me  that 
evening.  On  my  entrance  I  had  glanced  a  young  lady,  extremely 
beautiful,  who  appeared  attired  by  the  hand  of  elegance  ;  it  was  with 


LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  83 

difficulty  I  could  take  my  eyes  from  her  !  I  was  confounded,  I  changed 
ray  seat,  that  I  might  not  behold  her,  and,  when  thus  addressed  by  Mr. 
£Jeale,  I  responded  by  asking  where  his  sister  was  seated,  when  he 
pointed  to  the  fascinating  figure,  who  had  so  imposingly  attracted  my 
attention.  "  That  young  lady,  sir,  is  Miss  Neaie — my  sister;  she  has 
long  wished  for  an  opportunity  of  seeing  you  ;  I  am  happy  that  she  is 
now  gratified."  An  introduction  was  in  course  ;  I  had  much  to  say 
through  the  evening,  and  my  friend  declared  I  had  never  spoken  better. 
I  addressed  the  throne  of  grace  ;  my  own  heart  was  softened,  and  the 
hearts  of  my  audience  were  softened  also.  I  returned  home,  but  the 
beauteous  image  of  the  sister  of  my  friend  accompanied  me  !  I  could 
not  for  a  moment  exclude  the  lovely  intruder  from  my  imagination. 
I  was  alarmed ;  I  wept,  I  prayed,  but  every  effort  was  fruitless  ;  the 
more  I  strove  to  forget  her,  the  more  she  was  remembered.  I  was  im- 
patient to  behold  her  again,  yet  I  most  devoutly  wished  we  had  never 
met.  I  was  convinced  my  peace,  my  happiness  were  forever  fled ! 
This  was  truly  astonishing  ;  I  had  recently  been  so  positive,  that  the 
combined  sex  did  not  possess  the  power  to  engage  my  attention  for  a 
single  moment.  Some  time  elapsed,  during  which  the  captivating 
engrosser  of  my  heart  never  relinquished,  no,  not  for  a  single  instant, 
that  entire  possession,  which  she  had  taken  of  my  imagination  ;  when, 
after  an  evening  lecture,  while  the  congregation  were  quitting  the 
meeting-house,  a  lady,  who  kept  a  boarding-school  for  young  ladies, 
requested  I  would  pass  the  next  evening  at  her  house,  as  her  young 
people  were  to  collect  their  friends,  and  she  wished  some  one  to  introduce 
religious  conversation.  I  had  no  inclination  to  accept  this  invitation, 
and  I  accordingly  made  my  excuses  ;  but  the  good  lady  continued  to 
press  me,  and  added,  I  expect  Miss  Neale  will  be  of  the  party.  Of 
this  imposing  article  of  intelligence,  I  experienced  the  full  force  ;  but 
I  endeavoured  to  disguise  my  emotions  ;  and,  the  request  being  once 
more  repeated,  I  consented,  and  returned  home,  notwithstanding  all 
my  resolutions,  transported  with  the  prospect  of  once  more  beholding 
the  dear  object  of  my  admiration.  That  I  was  now  become  a  real 
lover,  there  could  be  no  doubt.  I  was  early  at  the  place  appointed, 
and  my  enraptured  heart  danced  with  joy,  when  I  once  more  beheld 
the  triumphant  fair  one  ;  I  was  happy  to  observe,  that  she  regarded  me 
with  marked  attention,  but  her  predilection  was  rather  for  the  Chris- 
tian, than  the  man.  I  was,  however,  beyond  expression  elated,  and 
my  conversation  partook  of  the  elevation  of  my  soul.  The  evening  was 
nothing  :  it  was  gone,  ere  I  was  sensiblejt  had  well  commenced.  Eliza, 


84  LIFE    OF    REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

for  that  was  her  fascinating  name,  arose  to  take  leave  ;  I  was  greatly 
chagrined,  I  had  calculated  upon  attending  her  home  ;  but  a  confiden- 
tial friend  had  been  sent  to  take  charge  of  her.  I  ventured,  however, 
to  express  a  hope,  that  I  should  see  her  at  Mrs.  Allen's,  a  friend,  warm- 
ly attached  to  us  both,  on  the  following  Wednesday  evening.  She 
modestly  replied,  she  would  endeavour  to  be  there  ;  and  in  the  in- 
terim, I  sought  to  learn  if  she  were  disengaged,  but  I  could  obtain  no 
satisfactory  information.  The  appointed  evening  was  passed  most  de- 
lightfully, at  Mrs.  Allen's  ;  I  had  the  felicity  of  attending  the  young 
lady  home,  and  the  temerity  to  ask  such  questions,  as  extorted  an  ac- 
knowledgment, that  she  was  not  engaged.  With  trembling  eagerness, 
I  then  ventured  to  propose  myself  as  a  candidate  for  her  favour. 
"  Alas  !  sir,"  she  replied,  "  you  have  formed  too  high  an  opinion  of  my 
character  ;  I  trust  you  will  meet  a  person  much  more  deserving  of  you, 
than  I  can  pretend  to  be."  I  re-urged  my '  suit,  with  all  the  fervour, 
which  youth,  and  an  irrepressible  passion  could  furnish.  Her  answer  is 
indelibly  engraved  upon  the  tablets  of  my  memory.  "  You,  and  I, 
sir,  profess  to  believe  in  an  over-ruling  Providence,  we  have  both  ac- 
cess to  the  throne  of  our  heavenly  Father.  Let  us,  sir,  unbosom  our- 
selves to  our  God ;  I  shall,  I  do  assure  you  ;  so  I  am  persuaded  will 
you  ;  and  if,  after  we  have  thus  done,  we  obtain  the  sanction  of  the 
Most  High,  I  trust  I  shall  be  resigned."  We  had  now  reached  her 
habitation,  the  threshold  of  which,  no  professed  follower  of  Whitefield 
was  ever  allowed  to  pass.  I  supplicated  for  permission  to  write  to 
her,  and,  in  the  full  confidence  of  Christian  amity,  she  acceded  to  the 
prayer  of  my  petition.  From  this  period,  no  week  passed,  during 
which  we  did  not  exchange  letters,  and  the  pages,  we  filled,  might  have 
been  submitted  to  the  most  rigid  inspection.  Mrs.  Allen  was  our 
confidant,  and  every  letter,  which  passed  between  us,  was  put  into  the 
hand  of  this  discreet  matron,  without  a  seal.  At  the  house  of  this  lady 
we  had  frequent  interviews,  but  never  without  witnesses,  and  our  time 
was  passed  in  singing  hymns,  and  in  devout  prayer.  I  now  believed 
myself  the  happiest  being  in  creation  ;  I  was  certain  of  possessing  a 
most  inestimable  treasure  ;  and  although  the  grandfather  of  rny  Eliza, 
upon  whom  rested  her  whole  dependence,  never  saw  me  ;  and,  if  he 
had,  never  would  have  sanctioned  our  union,  we  cherished  that  hope, 
which  so  generally  proves  fallacious.  The  dear  girl  requested  me  to 
seek,  and  obtain  the  explicit  approbation  of  her  brother,  that  she  might 
at  least  insure  his  countenance  ;  and  upon  my  application  to  him,  he 
unhesitatingly  replied:  "  I  consider, dear  sir,  my  sister  as  highly  honoured 


LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 


by  your  proposals."  But,  sir,  have  we  your  consent  ?  "  Undoubtedly. 
sir,  and  with  my  whole  heart."  This  was  sufficient,  and  I  was  com- 
pletely happy.  But,  alas  !  "  never  did  the  course  of  true  love  run. 
smooth."  We  were  on  the  verge  of  a  most  distressing  calamity  :  this 
brother,  in  whom  we  had  reposed  unlimited  confidence,  became  my 
inveterate  foe,  and  writing  an  anonymous  letter  to  his  grandfather,  he 
represented  me  as  a  fortune-hunter,  who  was  seeking  to  obtain  the 
heart  of  his  grand-daughter,  for  the  purpose  of  making  a  prey  of  her 
property  !  This  letter  produced  the  desired  effect  ;  the  old  gentleman 
was  extremely  irritated,  and,  sending  for  Eliza,  he  put  the  letter  into 
her  hand,  and  sternly  asked  her,  if  she  had  entered  into  any  engage- 
ment with  a  person  by  the  name  of  Murray  ?  when,  receiving  an  an- 
swer in  the  affirmative,  he  gave  full  credit  to  all  the  rest,  and  being  a 
man  of  violent  passions,  he  threatened  her  with  the  loss  of  his  favour,  if 
she  did  not  immediately  promise  to  renounce  me  forever.  He  was  well 
apprized,  if  he  could  obtain  her  promise,  he  had  nothing  further  to  ap- 
prehend. The  firm,  self-collected  girl,  implored  his  pardon,  if  she  did 
not  yield  credence  to  the  slanders,  contained  in  the  despicable  scrawl 
he  had  placed  in  her  hand  ;  she  besought  him  to  see  me,  to  converse 
with  me  ;  promising,  that  if,  upon  a  personal  acquaintance,  he  continued 
to  disapprove,  she  would  endeavour  to  bend  her  mind  to  aw  acquies- 
cence with  his  will.  Her  grandfather  was  inexorable  ;  he  would  ad- 
mit no  conditions  ;  and  ultimately  assured  the  young  lady,  if  she  did 
not  relinquish  every  thought  of  me,  she  must  give  up  all  idea  of  ever 
receiving  a  single  penny  of  his  property.  He  granted  her  three  days 
for  deliberation,  during  which  period,  she  was  to  consider  herself  a 
prisoner.  Of  this,  most  unexpected  event,  I  speedily  gained  intelli- 
gence, and  my  soul  was  torn  by  apprehension.  To  Eliza  I  could 
have  no  access,  and  even  the  intercourse,  by  letter,  was  suspended  ! 
In  this  state  of  agonizing  suspense  I  remained,  until,  through  the  in- 
strumentality of  the  chambermaid,  a  letter  was  brought  to  Mrs.  Al- 
len for  me,  which  letter,  while  it  gave  a  most  affecting  detail  of  her 
sufferings,  contained  the  fullest  assurance  of  her  unbroken  faith,  and 
steadfastness.  She  recommended  it  to  me,  to  apply  to  the  same  Source, 
from  whence  she  herself  had  derived  consolation  ;  to  the  Almighty 
Father  of  our  spirits,  who  held  in  His  hands  all  hearts;  and,  she  added, 
that  no  power,  short  of  Omnipotence,  should  ever  prevail  upon  her  to 
give  her  hand,  unaccompanied  by  her  heart  ;  and  that,  in  a  few  hours, 
she  should  be  so  circumstanced,  .-is  to  prove  the  sincerity  of  my  affec- 
tion, for  she  was  speedily  to  render  hef  final,  answer  to  her  grand  fath- 

M 


86  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

er.    She  hoped  for  divine  support,  during  the  arduous  trial,  to  which 
she  was  called  to  submit  ;  and  she  most  earnestly  solicited  my  prayers 
in  her  behalf.     A  second  letter  was  soon  handed  me,  giving  an  account 
of  the  second  interview.     "Well,   my  dear  child,"  said  the  old  gen- 
tleman, "  what  am  I   to  expect  ?  am  I  to  lose  my  daughter,  the  com- 
fort of  my  declining  life  ?    Or  will  you  have  compassion  upon  my  old 
age,  and  relinquish  this  interested,  designing  man  ?"    "  If,  my  dear  sir, 
I  had  any  reason  for  supposing  the  person, of  whom  you  speak,  such  as 
you  believe  him,  the  relinquishment,  which  you  require,  would  not  cost 
an  effort ;  but,   sir,  Mr.  Murray  is  an  honest  man,  he  has  a  sincere  af- 
fection for  me,  I  have  given  him  reason  to  hope,  and,  until  I  am  con- 
vinced he  is  unworthy  of  my  esteem,  I  cannot  consent  to  treat  him  as 
if  he  were."     Here  the  passions  of  the  old  gentleman   began   to  rise, 
whn  the     dear  girl  besought  him  to  be  calm,  assuring  him  it  was  neith- 
er her  wish,  nor  intention  to  leave  him  ;  nay  more,  she  would  pledge  her 
word  never  to  leave  him,  while  she  could  have  the  felicity  of  attending 
upon  him,  if  he  would  not  insist  upon  her  violating  her  faith,    tacitly 
given  to  me.     But  this  would  not  do  ;  she  must  abandon  her  lover  or 
her  fortune ;  and  finding  her  determined,   he  arose  from  his  chair,  and 
seizing  his  will,  in  which  he  had  bequeathed  her  one  thousand  pounds 
sterling,  he  furiously  flung  it  into   the  flames,  immediately   causing 
another  will  to  be  written,  in  which  he  gave  to  her  brother,  the  portion 
designed  for  her  :    and  thus  did  this  young  incendiary  obtain  the  ob- 
ject, for  which  he  had  laboured,  and  to  which  he  had  most  nefariously, 
and  darkly,  grouped  his  way.     I  had  now  the  felicity  of  learning,  that 
my  Eliza  had  a  stronger   value  for  me,  than  for  her  patrimony  ;    and 
she  observed  to  her  grandfather,   that  he   had   furnished  her  with    an 
opportunity  of  proving  the  sincerity  of  my   attachment.     "  If,"   said 
she,  "  his  views  are  such,  as  you  have  been  taught  to  believe,   he  will 
shortly  relinquish  me,  and  thus  have  I,   most  opportunely,  obtained  a 
criterion."    Never  did  I  receive  a  piece  of  intelligence  productive  of  »o 
much  heart-felt  pleasure,  as  the  certainty  of  that   potent  prepossession, 
which  could  thus  enable  her,  whom   I  esteemed   the  most  perfect  of 
human  beings,  to  surrender  up,  without  a  sigh,  the  gifts  of  fortune. 
Words  cannot  delineate,   how  greatly  I  conceived  myself  enriched  by 
this  blissful  assurance.     Still  I  met  the  brother  of  Eliza,  at  the  Taber- 
nacle, and  occasionally  at  private  societies,  and  still   he  wore  the  sem- 
blance of  amity.     Previous  to  this  event,  the  elder  Mr.  Neale,   who 
was  always  my  friend,    had  become  the  head  of  a  family  ;  during  a 
few  weeks,  we  continued  id  statu  quo,  when  my  invidious  calumniator 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  '     87 

requested  me,  by  a  written  message,  to  give  him  a  meeting  at  the  house 
of  his  aunt,  a  lady  who  resided  next  door  to  his  grandfather.  I  obeyed 
the  summons,  when,  to  my  great  astonishment,  he  informed  me,  it  was 
his  sister's  wish,  I  would  think  of  her  no  more  ;  that  there  were  many 
young  ladies,  with  whom  I  might  form  a  connexion,  abundantly  more 
advantageous  ;  and  that  for  herself,  she  was  weary  of  contending  with 
her  grandfather.  During  the  whole  of  this  studied  harangue,  the  tor- 
ture of  my  soul  was  scarcely  to  be  endured.  After  a  most  distressing 
pause,  I  tremblingly  interrogated  :  Tell  me,  sir,  has  Miss  Neale  really 
empowered  you  to  act  in  her  behalf?  "  If  you  doubt  it,  here  is  a  letter, 
written  with  her  own  hand,  furnished  me  upon  a  presumption,  that  I 
might  not  obtain  a  speedy  opportunity  of  seeing  you  ;"  and  he  put 
the  letter  into  my  hand.  Mr.  Neale  knew  not,  that  I  was  in  possession 
of  many  of  his  sister's  letters  ;  he  knew  not,  that  she  had  ever  written 
to  me  ;  if  he  had,  he  would  hardly  have  exhibited  this  scrawl,  as  hers. 
The  anguish  of  my  soul  was  no  more  ;  yet  I  assayed  to  conceal  my 
emotions,  and  contented  myself  with  solemnly  declaring,  that  it  was 
only  from  the  lips  of  Miss  Neale  I  would  accept  my  dismission. 
"  You  may,"  said  he,  "rest  assured,  you  will  never,  with  her  own  con- 
sent, again  see  that  young  lady."  Thus  spake,  thus  acted  the  man, 
whom,  the  very  next  morning,  I  met  at  Mr.  Whitefield's  communion. 
Leading  Mr.  Neale,  I  returned  to  my  lodgings,  sat  down  and  related 
to  Eliza  the  whole  business,  inclosing  the  letter  I  had  received  as  hers. 
The  ensuing  day  gave  me  an  assurance,  under  her  own  hand,  that  the 
whole  procedure  was  unknown  to  her  ;  requesting,  that  I  would  remain 
perfectly  easy  ;  that  I  would  keep  my  mind  entirely  to  myself,  making 
application  only  to  the  wonderful  Counsellor,  and  resting  in  full  as- 
surance of  her  fidelity.  This  was  enough,  and  my  full  soul  rejoiced  in 
the  consolation,  thus  seasonably  afforded  me.  Mr.  Neale,  supposing  his 
arts  had  succeeded,  brought  forward  proposals  in  favour  of  a  gentle- 
man, educated  by  his  grandfather,  who  had  long  loved  my  Eliza  : 
but  who,  fearful  of  a  rejection,  had  not  disclosed  his  passion.  Com- 
mon fame  soon  wafted  to  my  ear  the  report  of  these  new  pretensions  : 
the  gentleman  was,  in  every  respect,  my  superior,  and  he  was  declared 
a  successful  rival.  I  met  the  object  of  my  soul's  affection  at  Mrs.  Al- 
len's ;  I  communicated  the  lacerating  intelligence  I  had  received  ;  she 
smiled,  tacitly  assured  me  I  had  not  much  to  apprehend,  arid  accord- 
ing to  custom,  added,  Let  us  improve  our  opportunity  in  the  best  possi- 
ble manner,  let  us  devote  it  to  prayer,  and  to  praise.  Thus  revolved 
days,  weeks,  and  months  :  hoping,  and  fearing,  joying,  and  sorrowing. 


88  LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

•while  rny  gentle,  my  amiable  friend,  painfully  reciprocated  every  anx- 
iety. It  was  supposed,  by  her  connexions,  that  she  had  relinquished 
her  purpose  in  my  favour,  and  a  succession  of  advantageous  proposals 
•were  brought  forward,  all  of  which  she  decisively  rejected.  Once  a 
week,  she  was  permitted  to  visit,  when  she  never  forgot  to  call  upon 
Mrs.  Allen.  She  also  allowed  me  to  attend  her  every  Sunday  morn- 
ing before  day,  during  the  winter  ;  and  I  considered  myself  supremely 
happy,  in  the  privilege  of  presenting  myself  at  her  dwelling,  on  those 
holy  days,  by  four  o'clock,  waiting  her  appearance  ;  and  often  have 
I  been  eyed  with  suspicion  by  the  watch,  and,  in  fact,  I  was  once 
taken  up.  Neither  storms  nor  tempests  arrested  my  steps  ;  and  some- 
times I  have  tarried,  until  the  dawning  day  compelled  me  to  retire, 
when  I  was  obliged  to  pass  on,  in  melancholy  solitude,  to  the  Taber- 
nacle. Yet,  between  love  and  devotion,!  was  a  very  happy,  very  dis- 
consolate being.  I  richly  enjoyed  the  pleasures  of  anticipation,  which 
are  generally  believed  to  exceed  possession  ;  yet  my  own  experience 
is  very  far  from  acknowledging  the  justice  of  this  hypothesis.  I  con- 
tinued in  this  state  more  than  a  year,  snatching  enjoyments  when  I 
could,  and  placing  confidence  in  futurity.  In  the  course  of  this  year, 
my  insidious,  although  still  professing  friend,  married  a  lady  of  some 
property — two  thousand  pounds  sterling  ;  his  grandfather  adding  two 
thousand  more,  one  of  which  he  had  designed  as  provision  for  his 
grand-daughter  ;  and,  strange  as  it  may  appear,  this  angel  girl  uttered 
not,  upon  this  occasion,  a  single  reproach  !  The  new  alliance  strength- 
ed  the  family  interest  against  me  ;  the  lady,  without  knowing  me,  was 
my  inveterate  foe.  It  was  about  this  time  discovered,  that  the  attach- 
ment of  Eliza  remained  in  full  force.  Her  grandfather  imagined,  that 
we  cherished  hope  of  a  change  in  his  sentiments,  or  that  we  should  ul- 
timately, at  least  in  the  event  of  his  death,  come  into  possession  of  some 
part  of  his  property  ;  and,  that  he  might  effectually  crush  every  expec- 
tation, he  so  managed,  as  to  put  his  most  valuable  possessions  out  of 
his  own  power.  The  period  at  length  arrived,  which  completed  the 
minority  of  my  tender  friend  ;  it  was  upon  the  eighteenth  day  of  May, 
and  this  day,  the  elder  Mr.  Neale,  who,  as  has  been  observed,  had  still 
continued  my  fast  friend,  determined  to  render  a  gala,  by  passing  it 
with  me  in  the  country.  With  the  early  dawn  we  commenced  our 
little  excursion,  when  we  beheld,  at  a  distance,  a  young  lady  with  a 
small  parcel  in  her  hand  ;  we  approached  her,  and,  to  our  great  aston- 
ishment, recognised,  in  this  young  lady,  the  sister  of  my  friend,  the 
precious  object  of  my  most  ardent  love.  Upon  that  memorable  morn- 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY-  89 

ing  she  had  quitted  the  house  of  her  grandfather,  and  all  she  possessed, 
that  had  been  his,  leaving  upon  her  writing  desk  a  letter,  which  lay 
there,  until  the  family,  alarmed  at  her  not  making  her  appearance  at 
the  breakfast  table,  entered  her  apartment,  whence  the  lovely  sufferer 
had  so  recently  flown.  The  letter  furnished  an  explanation  ;  it  was  ad- 
dressed to  her  grandfather,  and  it  informed  him,  that  the  writer  would 
ever  acknowledge  unreturnable  obligations,  for  the  many  favours  he 
had  conferred  upon  her  ;  that,  if  she  could  have  been  indulged  with 
her  wish  of  living  with  him,  she  should  have  been  content ;  but,  as 
the  solicitations  to  enter  into  matrimonial  engagements,  by  which  she 
was  persecuted,  were  unceasing,  she  was  convinced  she  should  not  be 
allowed  to  give  this  testimony  of  her  filial  attachment  ;  and  being  now 
of  age,  she  begged  leave  to  deliver  up  the  keys,  the  sums  of  money, 
with  which  she  had  been  entrusted,  and  whatever  else  had  pertained  to 
her  grandfather  ;  adding  an  assurance,  that  she  should  no  more  return. 
Her  brother  William  immediately  conducted  her  to  his  house,  whith- 
er I  attended  them,  and  where,  by  her  positive  orders,  we  were  obliged 
to  leave  her.  Agreeably  to  her  request,  we  proceeded  on  our  propos- 
ed walk,  and  we  learned  on  our  return,  that  repented  messengers  had 
been  dispatched  by  her  grandfather,  soliciting  her  again  to  become  an 
inmate  in  his  house,  and  that  the  lady  of  her  youngest  brother  had 
been  commissioned  for  this  purpose ;  but  that  every  entreaty  had 
proved  ineffectual.  For  me,  fondly  flattering  myself,  that  I  should 
immediately  excjjan^e  my  vows  with  my  amiable,  my  affianced  friend, 
at  the  altar  of  our  uod,  I  was  superlatively  happy  ;  but  again  my 
high-wrought  expectations  proved  fallacious.  This  strong-minded 
woman  was  a  votary  of  propriety,  and  she  was  determined  it  should 
not  appear,  that  she  had  quitted  a  parent,  for  the  purpose  of  throwing 
herself  into  the  Wins  of  a  husband.  She  had  bid  adieu  to  the  paternal 
roof,  because  she  could  not,  while  there,  be  allowed  the  exercise  of  her 
own  judgment ;  because  measures  were  taking  to  compel  her  to  marry 
a  man,  she  could  never  approve.  Her  eldest  brother,  her  beloved 
William,  she  was  confident  would  patronize,  and  protect  her  ;  and 
her  needle  was  a  resource,  from  which  she  could  al ways  derive  a  com- 
petency. 


90  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Author  becomes  a  happy  husband^  a  happy  father.  He  embraces 
"  the  tnith,  as  it  is  in  Jesus  ;"  and  from  this,  and  other  combining 
causes,  he  is  involved  in  great  difficulties.  Death  deprives  him  of 
his  wedded  friend,  and  of  his  infant  son,  and  he  is  overtaken  by  a 
series  of  calamities. 

Hail !  wedded  love  !  Connubial  friendship,  hail ! 
Bas'd  on  esteem,.. ..if  love  supplies  the  gale, 
Borne  on  life's  stream,  we  cut  our  beamy  way, 
On  smooth  seas  wafted  to  the  realms  of  day. 

1  FTER  six  tedious  months,  from  the  morning  of  my  Eliza's  depar- 
ture from  the  mansion  of  her  grandfather,  had  completed  their  tar- 
dy round,  yielding  to  my  unremitted  importunities,  she  consented  to 
accompany  me  to  the  altar.  We  were  attended  by  William,  and  his 
lady,  with  our  dear  Mrs.  Allen  ;  and  I  received,  from  the  hands  of  our 
very  dear  brother,  an  inestimable  treasure,  which  constituted  me,  in  my 
own  estimation,  the  happiest  of  human  beings.  As  I  had  no  house  pre- 
pared, I  gratefully  accepted  the  kindness  of  this  beloved  brother,  who 
invited  us  to  tarry  with  him,  until  we  could  accommodate  ourselves  ; 
and;  if  I  except  one  unhappy  misunderstanding,  which  took  place  soon 
after  our  marriage,  no  wedded  pair  were  ever  blessed  with  more  unbro- 
ken felicity.  The  disagreement,  to  which  I  advert,  would  not  have  con- 
tinued so  long,  but  for  the  instigations  of  our  brother  William,  who  in- 
sisted upon  my  supporting  what  he  called  my  dignity,  which,  as  he 
said,  could  only  be  maintained  by  the  submission  of  my  wife.  The 
quarrel,  like  the  quarrels  of  most  married  people,  originated  in  a  mere 
trifle;  but  the  question  was,  who  should  make  the  first  conciliatory 
advances.  For  two  whole  days  we  did  not  exchange  a  single  word  !  ! 
William  still  imposingly  urging  me,  never  to  surrendeftny  prerogative! 
At  length,  unable  to  endure  such  a  state  of  wretchedness,  I  told  William, 
I  wTould  not  live  another  hour  in  such  a  situation  ;  he  only  ridiculed  me 
for  my  folly,  and  bid  me  take  the  consequence.  I,  however,  entered 
the  chamber  of  my  wife,  and,  extending  my  hand,  most  affectionately 
said :  My  soul's  best  treasure,  let  us  no  longer  continue  this  state  of 
mournful  estrangement!  for  the  world  I  would  not  thus  live  another 
day.  Why,  my  love,  our  sorrows  will  arise,  from  a  thousand  sources  ; 
let  us  not  render  each  other  miserable.  The  dear  girl  burst  into  tears, 
and  throwing  her  faithful  arms  around  me,  sobbed  upon  my  bosom  ; 
with  difficulty  articulating,  "  O  !  my'precious  friend,  you  have,  as  you 
always  will  have,  the  superiority.  God  for  ever  bless  my' faithful,  my 


LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  91 

condescending  husband."  From  this  moment  we  bade  adieu  to  dissen- 
sion of  every  description,  successfully  cultivating  that  harmony  of  dispo- 
sition, and  augmenting  confidence,  which  cannot  fail  of  insuring  domestic 
felicity.  We  soon  removed  to  a  house  of  our  own,  and  there,  as  I 
believe,  enjoyed  as  much  of  happiness,  as  ever  fell  to  the  lot  of  humanity. 
Yet,  although  thus  satisfied  with  each  other,  there  were  sources  of  in- 
quietude, which  created  us  some  distress.  I  had  heard  much  of  Mr. 
Relly  ;  he  was  a  conscientious,  and  zealous  preacher,  in  the  city  of 
London.  He  had,  through  many  revolving  years,  continued  faithful  to 
the  ministry  committed  to  him,  and  he  was  the  theme  of  every  religious 
sect.  He  appeared,  as  he  was  represented  to  me,  highly  erroneous  ; 
and  my  indignation  against  him,  as  has  already  been  seen,  was  very 
strong.  I  had  frequently  been  solicited  to  hear  him,  merely  that  I 
might  be  an  ear  witness  of  what  was  termed  his  blasphemies  ;  but,  I 
arrogantly  said,  I  would  not  be  a  murderer  of  time.  Thus  I  passed 
on  for  a  number  of  years,  hearing  all  manner  of  evil  said  of  Mr.  Relly, 
and  believing  all  I  heard,  while  every  day  augmented  the  inveterate 
hatred,  which  I  bore  the  man,  and  his  adherents.  When  a  worshipping 
brother,  or  sister,  belonging  to  the  communion,  which  I  considered  as 
honoured  by  the  approbation  of  Deity,  was,  by  this  deceiver,  drawn 
from  the  paths  of  rectitude,  the  anguish  of  my  spirit  was  indescribable  ; 
and  I  was  ready  to  say,  the  secular  arm  ought  to  interpose  to  prevent 
the  perdition  of  souls.  I  recollect  one  instance  in  particular,  which 
pierced  me  to  the  souL  A  young  lady,  of  irreproachable  life,  remarka- 
ble for  piety,  and  highly  respected  by  the  Tabernacle  congregation 
and  church,  of  which  I  was  a  devout  member,  had  been  ensnared  ;  to 
my  great  astonishment,  she  had  been  induced  to  hear,  and  having  heard, 
she  had  embraced  the  pernicious  errors  of  this  detestable  babbler  ;  she 
was  become  a  Mliever,  a  firm,  and  unwavering  believer  of  universal 
redemption  !  Horrible  !  most  horrible  !  So  high  an  opinion  was  enter- 
tained of  my  talents,  having  myself  been  a  teacher  among  the  Methodists, 
and  such  was  my  standing  in  Mr.  Whitefield's  church,  that  I  was 
deemed  adequate  to  reclaiming  this  wanderer,  and  I  was  strongly 
urged  to  the  pursuit.  The  poor,  deluded  young  woman  was  abund- 
antly worthy  our  most  arduous  efforts.  He,  that  convertelh  the  sinner 
from  the  error  of  his  way,  shall  save  a  soul  from  death,  and  shall  hide, 
a  multitude  of  sins.  Thus  I  thought,  thus  I  said,  and,  swelled  with  a 
high  idea  of  my  own  importance,  I  went,  accompanied  by  two  or 
three  of  my  Christian  brethren,  to  see,  to  converse  with,  and,  if  need 
were,  to  admonish  this  simple,  weak,  Tout,  a^we  heretofore  believed. 


92  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN   MURRAY. 

meritorious  female.  Fully  persuaded,  that  I  could  easily  convince  her 
of  her  errors,  I  entertained  no  doubt  respecting  the  result  of  my  under- 
taking. The  young  lady  received  us  with  much  kindness  and  conde- 
scension, while,  as  I  glanced  my  eye  upon  her  fine  countenance,  beam- 
ing with  intelligence,  mingling  pity  and  contempt  grew  in  my  bosom. 
After  the  first  ceremonies,  we  sat  for  some  time  silent ;  at  length  I 
drew  up  a  heavy  sigh,  and  uttered  a  pathetic  sentiment,  relative  to  the 
deplorable  condition  of  those,  who  live,  and  die  in  unbelief ;  and  I 
concluded  a  violent  declamation,  by  pronouncing,  with  great  earnestness, 
He,  that  belieVeth  not,  shall  be  damned. 

"  And  pray,  sir,"  said  the  young  lady,  with  great  sweetness,  "  Pray, 
sir,  what  is  the  unbeliever  damned  for  not  believing  ?" 

What  is  he  damned  for  not  believing  ?  Why,  he  is  damned  for  not 
believing. 

"  But,  my  dear  sir,  I  asked  what  was  that,  which  he  did  not  believe, 
for  which  he  was  damned  ?" 

Why,  for  not  believing  in  Jesus  Christ,  to  be  sure. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,  that  unbelievers  are  damned,  for  not  believing 
there  was  such  a  person  as  Jesus  Christ  ?" 

No,  I  do  not;  a  man  may  believe  there  was  such  a  person,  and  yet 
be  damned. 

"  What  then,  sir,  must  he  believe,  in  order  to  avoid  damnation  ?" 

Why  he  must  believe,  that  Jesus  Christ  is  a  complete  Saviour. 

"  Well,  suppose  he  were  to  believe,  that  Jesus  Christ  was  the 
complete  Saviour  of  others,  would  this  belief  save  him  ?" 

No,  he  must  believe,  that  Christ  Jesus  is  his  complete  Saviour  ; 
every  individual  must  believe  for  himself,  that  Jesus  Christ  is  his  com- 
plete Saviour. 

"  Why,  sir,  is  Jesus  Christ  the  Saviour  of  any  unWKevers  ?" 

No,  madam. 

"  Why,  then,  should  any  unbeliever  believe,  that  Jesus  Christ  is  his 
Saviour,  if  he  be  not  his  Saviour  ?" 

I  say,  he  is  not  the  Saviour  of  any  one,  until  he  believes. 

"  Then,  if  Jesus  be  not  the  Saviour  of  the  unbeliever,  until  he 
believes,  the  unbeliever  is  called  upon  to  believe  a  lie.  It  appears  to 
me,  sir,  that  Jesus  is  the  complete  Saviour  of  unbelievers  ;  and  that 
unbelievers  are  called  upon  to  believe  the  truth  ;  and  that,  by  believing 
they  are  saved,  in  their  own  apprehension,  saved  from  all  those  dreadful 
fears,  which  are  consequent  upon  a  state  of  conscious  condemnation." 

No,  madam  :  you  a^  dreadfully,  I  trust  not  fatally,  misled.  Jesus 
never  »vas,  nor  never  will  be,  the  Saviour  of  any  unbeliever. 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  93 

"  Do  you  think  Jesus  is  your  Saviour,  sir  ?" 

I  hope  he  is. 

"  Were  you  always  a  believer,  sir  ?" 

No,  madam. 

"  Then  you  were  once  an  unbeliever  ;  that  is,  you  once  believed, 
that  Jesus  Christ  was  not  your  Saviour.  Now,  as  you  say,  he  never 
was,  nor  never  will  be,  the  Saviour  of  any  unbeliever ;  as  you  were  once 
an  unbeliever,  he  never  can  be  your  Saviour." 

He  never  was  my  Saviour,  till  I  believed. 

"  Did  he  never  die  for  you,  till  you  believed,  sir  ?" 

Here  I  was  extremely  embarrassed,  and  most  devoutly  wished  my- 
self out  of  her  habitation  ;  I  sighed  bitterly, expressed  deep  commisera- 
tion for  those  deluded  souls,  who  had  nothing  but  head-knowledge  ; 
drew  out  my  watch,  discovered  it  was  late  ;  and,  recollecting  an  engage- 
ment, observed  it  was  time  to  take  leave. 

I  was  extremely  mortified  ;  the  young  lady  observed  my  confusion, 
but  was  too  generous  to  pursue,  her  triumph.  I  arose  to  depart  ;  the 
company  arose  ;  she  urged  us  to  tarry  ;  addressed  each  of  us  in  the 
language  of  kindness.  Her  countenance  seemed  to  wear  a  resemblance 
of  the  heaven,  which  she  contemplated  ;  it  was  stamped  by  benignity, 
and  when  we  bade  her  adieu,  she  enriched  us  by  her  good  wishes. 

I  suspected,  that  my  religious  brethren  saw  she  had  the  advantage  of 
me  ;  and  I  felt,  that  her  remarks  were  indeed  unanswerable.  My  pride 
was  hurt,  and  I  determined  to  ascertain  the  exact  sentiments  of  my 
associates,  respecting  this  interview.  Poor  soul,  said  I,  she  is  far  gone 
in  error.  True,  said  they  ;  but  she  is,  notwithstanding,  a  very  sensible 
woman.  Ay,  ay,  thought  I,  they  have  assuredly  discovered,  that  she 
has  proved  too  mighty  for  me.  Yes,  said  I,  she  has  a  great  deal  of 
head  knowledge  ;  but  yet  she  may  be  a  lost,  damned  soul.  I  hope  not, 
returned  one  of  my  friends  ;  she  is  a  very  good  young  woman.  I  saw, 
and  it  was  with  extreme  chagrin,  that  the  result  of  this  visit  had  de- 
preciated me  in  the  opinion  of  my  companions.  But  I  could  only 
censure  and  condemn,  solemnly  observing:  It  was  better  not  to  converse 
with  any  of  those  apostates,  and  it  would  be  judicious  never  to  associate 
with  them  upon  any  occasion.  From  this  period,  I  myself  care f Lilly 
avoided  every  Universalist,  and  most  cordially  did  I  hate  them.  My 
ear  was  open  to  the  public  calumniator,  to  the  secret  whisperer,  and 
I  yielded  credence  to  every  scandalous  report,  however  improbable. 
My  informers  were  good  people  ;  I  had  no  doubt  of  their  veracity  ;  and 
I  believed  it  would  be  difficult  to  painj  Kelly,  and  his  connexk 

N 


'Jl  LIFE  OF  UEV.  JOHN   MURRAY. 

colours  too  black.  How  severely  has  the  law  of  rclaludion  been  since 
exercised  in  the  stabs,  which  have  been  aimed  at  my  own  reputation  ! 
Relly  was  described,  as  a  man  black  with  crimes  ;  an  atrocious  offender, 
both  in  principle,  and  practice.  He  had,  it  was  said,  abused  and 
deserted  an  amiable  wife ;  and,  it  was  added,  that  he  retained  in  his 
house  an  abandoned  woman  ;  and  that  he  not  only  thus  conducted 
himself,  but,  publicly,  and  most  nefariously,  taught  his  hearers  to  dare 
the  laws  of  their  country,  and  their  God.  Hence,  said  my  informers, 
the  dissipated  and  unprincipled,  of  every  class,  flock  to  his  church  ;  hi^ 
congregation  is  astonishingly  large,  the  carriages  of  the  great  block  up 
the  street,  in  which  his  meeting-house  stands,  and  he  is  the  idol  of  the 
voluptuous  of  every  description.  All  this,  and  much  more  was  said, 
industriously  propagated,  and  credited  in  every  religious  circle. 
Denominations,  at  variance  w'ith  each  other,  most  cordially  agreed 
in  thus  thinking,  and  thus  speaking  of  Relly,  of  his  principles,  of  his 
preaching,  and  of  his  practice.  I  confess  I  felt  a  strong  inclination  to  see, 
and  hear  this  monster,  once  at  least ;  but  the  risk  was  dreadful !  I  couJd 
not  gather  courage  to  hazard  the  steadfastness  of  my  faith  ;  and  for 
many  years  T  persevered  in  my  resolution,  on  no  consideration  to 
contaminate  my  ear  by  the  sound  of  his  voice.  At  length,  however, 
I  was  prevailed  upon  to  enter  his  church  ;  but  I  detested  the  sight  of 
him  ;  and  my  mind,  prejudiced  by  the  reports,  to  which  I  had  listened 
respecting  him,  was  too  completely  filled  with  a  recollection  of  his 
fancied  atrocities,  to  permit  a  candid  attention  to  his  subject,  or  his 
mode  of  investigation.  I  wondered  much  at  his  impudence,  in  daring 
to  speak  in  the  name  of  God  ;  and  I  felt  assured,  that  he  was  treasur- 
ing up  unto  himself  wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath.  I  looked  upon 
his  deluded  audience  with  alternate  pity  and  contempt,  and  I  thanked 
God,  that  1  was  not  one  of  them.  I  rejoiced,  when  I  escaped  from  the 
house,  and,  as  I  passed  home,  I  exclaimed,  almost  audibly  :  Why,  O 
my  God,  was  I  not  left  in  this  deplorable,  damnable  state  ?  given  up, 
like  this  poor,  unfortunate  people,  to  believe  a  lie,  to  the  utter  perversion 
of  my  soul  ?  But  I  was  thus  furnished  with  another  proof  of  my 
Election,  in  consequence  of  my  not  being  deceived  by  this  detestable 
deceiver  ;  and,  of  course,  my  consolation  was  great. 

About  this  time,  there  was  a  religious  society  established  in  Cannon- 
street,  in  an  independent  meeting-house,  for  the  purpose  t>f  elucidating 
difficult  passages  of  scripture.  This  society  chose  for  their  president  a 
Mr.  Mason,  who,  although  not  a  clerical  gentleman,  was,  nevertheless, 
of  high  standing  in  the  religious  wrorld  :  frequent  applications  were 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

/•  a 

made  to  him,  in  the  character  of  a  physician  to  the  sinking,  sorrowing, 
sin-sick  soul.  His  figure  was  commanding,  and  well  calculated  to  fill 
the  minds  of  young  converts  with  religious  a\ve.  When  this  company 
of  serious  inquirers  were  assembled,  the  president  addressed  the  throne 
of  grace,  in  a  solemn,  and  appropriate  prayer,  and  the  subject  for  the 
evening  was  next  proposed.  Every  member  of  die  society  was  indulged 
with  the  privilege  of  expressing  his  sentiments,  for  the  space  of  five  mi- 
nutes ;  a  glass  was  upon  the  table,  which  ran  accurately  the  given  term. 
The  president  held  in  his  hand  a  small  ivory  hammer :  when  the 
speaker's  time  had  expired,  he  had  a  right  to  give  him  notice  by  a  stroke 
on  the  table,  round  which  the  assembled  members  were  seated.  But,  if 
he  approved  of  what  was  delivered,  it  was  optional  with  him  to  extend 
the  limits  of  his  term.  When  the  question  had  gone  round  the  table, 
the  president  summed  up  the  evidences,  gave  his  own  judgment,  and, 
having  proposed  the  question  for  the  next  evening,concluded  with  prayer. 
Upon  this  society  I  was  a  constant  attendant,  and  I  was  frequently 
gratified  by  the  indulgence  of  the  president  and  the  implied  approbation 
of  the  society.  It  was  on  the  close  of  one  of  those  evenings,  which  were 
to  me  very  precious  opportunities,  that  the  president  took  me  by  the 
hand,  and  requested  me  to  accompany  him  into  the  vestry.  "  Sit  down, 
my  good  sir  :  you  cannot  but  have  seen,  that  I  have  long  distinguished 
you  in  this  society  ;  that  I  have  been  pleased  with  your  observations  : 
and  I  have  given  indisputable  evidence,  that  both  my  reason,  and  my 
judgment,  approved  your  remarks."  I  bowed  respectfully,  and  endea- 
voured to  express  my  gratitude,  in  a  manner  becoming  an  occasion  so 
truly  flattering. 

"  My  object,"  said  he,  "  in  seeking  to  engage  you  in  private,  is  to  re- 
quest you  would  take  home  with  you  a  pamphlet  I  have  written  against, 
Kelly's  Union.  J  have  long  wondered,  that  some  able  servant  of  our 
Master  has  not  taken  up  this  subject.  But, as  my  superiors  are  silent,  I 
have  been  urged  by  a  sense  of  duty  to  make  a  stand,  and  I  have  done 
all  in  my  power  to  prevent  the  pernicious  tendency  of  this  soul-destroy- 
ing book." 

Although,  at  this  period,  I  had  never  seen  Kelly's  Union,  yet  my 
heart  rejoiced,  that  Mason,  this  great  and  good  man,  had  undertaken  to 
write  against  it,  and,  from  the  abundance  of  my  heart,  my  mouth  over- 
flowed with  thankfulness. 

"  All  that  I  request  of  you,"  said  Mr.  Mason,  "  is  to  take  this  man- 
uscript home  with  you,  and  keep  it  till  our  next  meeting.  Meet  me  ij- 
this  vestry,  a  little  before  the  usual  timfc  Read  it,  I  entreat  you,  car^ 


1,I?E  OF  REV.  JOHN  HURRAY. 

,  and  favour  me  with  your  unbiassed  sentiments."  I  was  elated  by 
the  honour  done  me,  and  I  evinced  much  astonishment  at  the  confidence 
reposed  in  me.  But  he  was  pleased  to  express  a  high  opinion  of  my 
judgment,  abilities,  arid  goodness  of  heart,  and  he  begged  leave  to  avail 
himself  of  those  qualities,  with  which  his  fancy  had  invested  me. 

T  took  the  manuscript  home,  perused  it  carefully,  and  with  much 
pleasure,  until  I  came  to  a  passage  at  which  I  was  constrained  to  pause, 
painfully  to  pause.  Mr.  Relly  had  said,  speaking  of  the  record,  which 
God  gave  of  his  Son  :  This  life  is  in  his  Son,  and  he,  that  believeth  not 
this  record,  maketh  God  a  liar  ;  from  whence,  inferred  Mr.  Rellv,  it  is 
plain,  that  God  hath  given  this  eternal  life  in  the  So/i  to  unbelievers,  as 
fully  as  to  believers,  else  the  unbeliever  could  not,  by  his  unbtlirf,  make 
God  a  liar.  This,  said  Mr.  Mason,  punning  upon  the  author  s  name, 
is  just  as  clear,  as  that  this  writer  is  an  Irish  Bishop.  T  was  grieved  to 
observe,  that  Mr.  Mason  could  say  no  more  upon  a  subject  so  momen- 
tous ;  nor  could  I  forbear  allowing  more,  than  I  wished  to  allow,  to 
the  reasoning  of  Mr.  Relly.  Most  devoutly  did  I  lament,  that  the  ad- 
vantage in  argument  did  not  rest  with  my  admired  friend,  Mason  ;  and 
I  was  especially  desirous,  that  this  last  argument  should  have  been 
completely  confuted.  I  was  positive,  that  God  never  gave  eternal  life 
to  any  unbeliever  ;  and  yet  I  was  perplexed  to  decide  how,  if  God  hud 
not  given  life  to  unbelievers,  they  could  possibly  make  God  a  liar,  by 
believing  that  he  had  not.  My  mind  was  incessantly  exercised,  ar.d 
greatly  embarrassed  upon  this  question.  What  is  it  to  make  any  one 
a  liar,  but  to  deny  the  truth  of  what  he  has  said  ?  But,  if  God  had 
no  where  said,  he  had  given  life  to  unbelievers,  how  could  the  unbe- 
liever make  God  a  liar  ?  The  stronger  this  argument  seemed  in  fa- 
vour of  the  grace  and  love  of  God,  the  more  distressed  and  unhappy 
I  became ;  and  most  earnestly  did  I  wish,  that  Mr.  Mason's  pamphlet 
might  contain  something,  that  was  more  rational,  more  scriptural,  than 
a  mere  pun  ;  that  he  might  be  able  to  adduce  proof  positive,  that  the* 
gift  of  God,  which  is  everlasting  life,  was  never  given  to  any,  but  be- 
lievers. I  was  indisputably  assured,  that  I  myself  was  a  believer  ;  and 
right  precious  did  I  hold  my  exclusive  property  in  the  Son  of  God. 

At  the  appointed  time,  I  met  Mr.  Mason  in  the  vestry.  "  Well, 
sir,  I  presume  you  have  read  my  manuscript  ?"  I  have,  sir,  and  I 
have  read  it  repeatedly.  "  Well,  sir,  speak  freely,  is  there  any  thing 
in  the  manuscript  which  you  dislike  ?"  Why,  sir,  as  you  are  so  good 
as  to  indulge  me  with  the  liberty  of  speaking,  I  will  venture  to  point 
out  one  passage,  which  appears  to  me  not  sufficiently  clear.  Pardon 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

me,  sir,  but  surely  argument,  especially  upon  religious  subjects,  is  pre- 
ferable to  ridicule,  to  punning  upon  Ike  name  of  an.  author.  "  And 
where,  pray,  is  the  objectionable  paragraph,  to  which  you  advert  ?" 
I  pointed  it  out ;  but,  on  looking  in  his  face,  I  observed  his  countenance 
fallen,  it  was  no  longer  toward  me.  Mr.  Mason  questioned  my  judg- 
ment, and  never  afterward  honoured  me  by  his  attention.  However,  I 
still  believed  Mason  right,  and  Rellij  wrong  ;  for  if  Relly  were  right, 
the  conclusion  was  unavoidable,  all  men  must  finally  be  saved.  But 
this  was  out  of  the  question,  utterly  impossible  ;  all  religious  denomi- 
nations agreed  to  condemn  this  heresy,  to  consider  it  as  a  damnable 
doctrine,  and  what  every  religious  denomination  united  to  condemn, 
must  be  false. 

Thus,  although  I  lost  the  favour  of  Mr.  Mason,  and  he  published  his 
pamphlet  precisely  as  it  stood,  when  submitted  to  my  perusal,  yet  my 
reverential  regard  for  him  was  not  diminished.  I  wished,  most  cordial- 
ly wished  success  to  his  book,  and  destruction  to  the  author,  against 
whom  it  was  written. 

In  this  manner,  some  months  rolled  over  my  head,  when,  accompa- 
nying my  wife  on  a  visit  to  her  aunt,  after  the  usual  ceremonies,  I  re- 
paired, according  to  custom,  to  the  book-case,  and  turning  over  many 
books  and  pamphlets,  I  at  length  opened  one,  that  had  been  robbed  of 
its  title-page  :  but  in  running  it  over,  I  came  to  the  very  argument,  which 
had  excited  so  much  anxiety  in  my  bosom.  It  was  the  first  moment  I 
had  ever  seen  a  line  of  Mr.  Kelly's  writing,  except  in  Mr.  Mason's 
pamphlet.  I  was  much  astonished,  and  turning  to  Mrs.  Murray,  I  in- 
formed her,  I  held  Mr.  Kelly's  Union  in  my  hand.  I  asked  our  uncle, 
if  I  might  put  it  in  my  pocket  ?  "  Surely,"  said  he,  "  and  keep  it 
there,  if  you  please,  I  never  read  books  of  divinity  ;  I  know  not  what 
the  pamphlet  is,  nor  do  I  wish  to  know."  As  I  put  it  into  my  pocket, 
my  mind  became  alarmed,  and  perturbed.  It  was  dangerous,  it  was 
tampering  with  poison,  it  was  like  taking  fire  into  my  bosom  ;  I  had 
better  throw  it  into  the  flames,  or  restore  it  to  the  book-case  ;  such  was 
the  conflict  in  my  bosom.  However,  in*  the  full  assurance,  that  the 
Elect  were  safe  ;  and  that,  although  they  took  up  any  deadly  thing,  it 
should  not  hurt  them,  I  decided  to  read  the  Union  ;  and  having  thus 
made  up  my  mind,  I  experienced  a  degree  of  impatience,  until  I  reach- 
ed home,  when  addressing  the  dear  companion  of  my  youth,  I  said  :  I 
have,  my  dear,  judged,  and  condemned,  before  I  have  heard  ;  but  I 
have  now  an  opportunity  given  me  for  deliberate  investigation.  "  But," 
urray,  "are  w>  sufficient  of  ourselves  ?"  No,  my 


S8  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

love,  certainly  we  are  not ;  but  God,  all  gracious,  hath  said,  If  any  lack 
wisdom,  let  them  ask  of  God,  who  giveth  liberally,  and  tipbraideth  not. 
My  heart  is  exercised  by  fearful  apprehensions  ;  this  moment  I  dread  to 
read,  the  next  I  am  anxious  to  hear  what  the  author  can  say.  We 
will,  therefore,  lay  this  book  before  our  God.  There  is,  my  love,  a 
God,  who  is  not  far  from  every  one  of  us  ;  we  are  directed  to  make 
our  requests  known  unto  Him  for  all  things,  by  supplication  and  prayer. 
God  hath  never  yet  said  to  any,  Seek  ye  my  face,  in  vain  ;  we  will 
then  pray  for  his  direction  and  counsel ;  and  we  may  rest  in  the  assur- 
ance of  obtaining  both.  Accordingly,  we  entered  our  closet,  and  both 
of  us,  for  we  were  both  eqmilly  interested,  prostrated  ourselves  i 
God,  with  prayers  and  tears,  beseeching  Him,  the  God  of  mercy,  to  loofc 
with  pity  on  us  :  we  were  on  the  point  of  attending  to  doctrines  of 
which  we  were  not,  we  could  not  be  judges,  and  we  earnestly  suppli- 
cated Him  to  lead  us  into  all  truth.  If  the  volume  before  us  contained 
truth,  we  entreated  him  to  show  it  to  us,  and  to  increase  our  faith  ;  if, 
on  the  other  hand,  it  contained  falsehood,  we  beseeched  God  to  make 
it  manifest,  that  we  might  not  be  deceived.  No  poor  criminal  ever 
prayed  for  life,  when  under  sentence  of  death,  with  greater  fervour  of 
devotion,  than  did  my  labouring  soul  upon  this  occasion  supplicate  for 
the  light, of  life  to  direct  my  erring  steps.  After  thus  weeping,  and  thus 
supplicating,  we  opened  the  bible,  and  began  to  read  this  book,  looking 
into  the  bible  for  the  passages,  to  which  the  writer  referred.  We  w?re 
astonished  and  delighted  at  the  btiauty  of  the  scriptures,  thus  exhibited  , 
it  seemed,  as  if  every  sentence  was  an  apple  of  gold  in  a  picture  of  sil- 
ver ;  and  still,  as  we  proceeded,  the  wonder  was,  that  so  much  divine 
truth  should  be  spoken  by  so  heinous  a  transgressor  :  and  this  consider- 
ation seemed  suggested, as  a  reason  why  I  should  not  continue  reading. 
Can  any  thing  good  proceed  from  such  a  character  ?  Would  not  truth 
have  been  revealed  to  men,  eminent  for  virtue  ?  How  is  it  possible,  dis- 
coveries, so  important,  should  never,  until  now,  have  been  made,  and 
now  only  by  this  man  ?  Yet,  I  considered,  God's  ways  were  in  the  great 
deep  ;  he  would  send,  by  whom  he  would  send  ;  choosing  the  weak  and 
base  things  to  confound  the  mighty  and  the  strong,  that  no  flesh  should 
glory  in  his  presence.  And,  as  my  lovely  wife  justly  observed,  I  was 
not  sure,  all,  I  heard  of  Mr.  Relly,  was  true  ;  that  our  Saviour  had 
said  to  his  disciples,  They  shall  say  all  manner  of  evil  of  you  falsely  ;  and 
the  present  instance  may  be  a  case  in  point.  "  You  have  no  personal 
acquaintance  with  Mr.  Relly,"  said  she  :  "  nor  do  you  know,  that  anv 
of  those,  from  whom  you  have  received  his  character,  are  better  inform- 


UFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  99 

ed  than  yourself.  I  think  it  doth  not  become  us  to  speak  or  believe  evil 
of  any  man,  without  the  strongest  possible  proof"  All  this  was  ration- 
al, I  felt  its  full  force,  and  blushed  for  my  own  credulity.  I  proceeded 
to  read.  The  Union  introduced  me  to  many  passages  of  scripture, 
which  had  before  escaped  my  observation.  A  student,  as  I  had  been  of 
the  scriptures,  from  the  first  dawn  of  my  reason,  I  could  not  but  won- 
der at  myself ;  I  turned  to  Mr.  Mason's  book,  and  I  discovered  a  want 
of  candour,  and  a  kind  of  duplicity,  which  had  not  before  met  my  view, 
and  which  perhaps  would  never  have  caught  my  attention,  had  I  not 
read  the  Union.  I  saw  the  grand  object  untouched,  while  Relly  had 
clearly  pointed  out  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel.  Yet  there  were  many 
passages,  that  I  could  not  understand,  and  I  felt  myself  distressingly 
embarrassed.  One  moment  I  wished  from  my  soul,  I  had  never  seen 
the  Union  ;  and  the  next  my  heart  was  enlarged,  and  lifted  up  by  consid- 
erations, which  swelled  my  bosom  to  ecstacy.  This  was  the  situation  of 
my  mind,  during  many  succeeding  months,  and  a  large  proportion  of 
my  time  was  passed  in  reading,  and  studying  the  scriptures,  and  in 
prayer  :  My  understanding  was  pressing  on  to  new  attainments,  and 
the  prospect  brightened  before  me.  I  was  greatly  attached  to  my  min- 
ister, Mr.  Hitchins  ;  he  was  eminent  in  his  line,  and  a  most  pleasing 
preacher.  Mrs,  Murray  was  in  the  habit  of  taking  down  his  sermons 
in  short  hand.  We  were  delighted  with  the  man,  and  accustomed  to 
consider  him  a  genuine  gospel  preacher.  It  happened,  that  Mr.  Hitch- 
ins  took  a  journey  into  the  country,  and  was  absent  on  the  sabbath 
day.  Come,  my  dear,  said  I,  our  minister  is  out  of  town,  let  us  avail 
ourselves  of  the  opportunity,  and  hear  the  writer  of  the  Union  ;  this  is 
a  privilege,  which  few,  who  read  books,  can  have ;  as  authors  are  gener- 
ally numbered  with  the  dead,  before  their  labours  are  submitted  to  the 
public  eye."  Her  consent  was  always  yielded  to  my  solicitations  ;  but 
we  were  terrified,  as  we  passed  along,  in  the  fear  of  meeting  some  of  our 
religious  brethren  ;  happily,  however,  we  reached  the  meeting-house, 
without  encountering  any  one,  to  whom  we  were  known. 

Mr.  Relly  had  changed  his  place  of  worship,  and  we  were  astonished 
.to  observe  a  striking  proof  of  the  falsehood  of  those  reports,  which  had 
reached  us  ;  no  coaches  thronged  the  street,  nor  surrounded  the  door 
of  this  meeting-house  ;  there  was  no  vestige  of  grandeur,  either  within 
or  without.  The  house  had  formerly  been  occupied  by  Quakers  : 
there  were  no  seats,  save  a  few  benches  ;  and  the  pulpit  was  framed  of  a. 
few  rough  boards,  over  which  no  plane  had  ever  passed.  The  audi- 
ence corresponded  with  the  house,  they  did  not  appear  very  rt;li<iioiis  : 


HOO  UFE    OF    REV.  JOJIN  MURRAY. 

that  is,  they  were  not  melancholy  ;  and  I  therefore  suspected  they  had 
not  much  piety.  I  attended  to  every  thing  ;  the  hymn  was  good,  the 
prayer  excellent,  and  I  was  astonished  to  witness,  in  so  bad  a  man,  so 
much  apparent  devotion  ;  for  still,  I  must  confess,  the  prejudices,  I  had 
received  from  my  religious  friends,  were  prevalent  in  my  mind.  Mr. 
Relly  gave  out  his  text.  "  Either  make  the  tree  good,  and  its  fruit 
good,  or  the  tree  corrupt,  and  its  fruit  cornipt  ;  for  every  tree  is  known 
by  its  fruit  ;  a  good  tree  cannot  bring  forth  corrupt  fruit,  neither  can 
a  corrupt  tree  bring  forth  good  fruit."  I  was  immeasurably  surprised. 
What,  thought  I,  has  this  man  to  do  with  a  passage,  so  calculated  to 
condemn  himself  ?  But,  as  he  proceeded,  every  faculty  of  my  soul 
was  powerfully  seized  and  captivated,  and  I  was  perfectly  amazed, 
while  he  explained  who  we  were  to  understand  by  the  good,  and  who 
by  the  bad  trees.  He  proved,  beyond  contradiction,  that  a  good  tree 
could  not  bring  forth  any  con-upt  fruit,  but  there  was  no  man,  who 
lived  and  sinned  not ;  all  mankind  had  corrupted  themselves,  there 
were  none  therefore  good  ;  no,  not  one. 

No  mere  man,  since  the  fall,  has  been  able  to  keep  the  Command- 
ments of  God  ;  but  daily  doth  break  them,  in  thought,  in  word,  and  in 
deed.  There  was,  however,  one  good  tree,  JESUS  ;  He  indeed  stands, 
as  the  apple-tree,  among  the  trees  of  the  wood  ;  He  is  that  good  tree, 
which  cannot  bring  forth  corrupt  fruit  ;  under  His  shadow  the  believ- 
er reposeth  ;  the  fruit  of  this  tree  is  sweet  to  his  taste ;  and  the  matter  of 
his  theme  constantly  is,  "  Whom  have  I  in  heaven,  but  thee,  and  there, 
is  none  upon  earth,  that  I  desire,  beside  thee."  I  was  constrained  to 
believe,  that  I  had  never,until  this  moment,  heard  the  Redeemer  preach- 
ed; and,  as  I  said,  I  attended  with  my  whole  soul.  I  was  humbled,  I 
was  confounded  ;  I  san  clearly,  that  I  had  been  all  my  life  expecting 
good  fruit  from  corrupt  trees,  grapes  on  thorns,  and  figs  on  thistles.  I 
suspected  myself;  I  had  lost  my  standing  ;  I  was  unsettled,  perturbed, 
and  wretched.  A  few  individuals,  whom  I  had  known  at  Mr.  White- 
field's  tabernacle,  were  among  Mr.  Kelly's  audience,  and  I  heard  thorn 
say,  as  they  passed  out  of  the  aisle  of  the  church,  I  wonder  how  the  Phar- 
isees would  like  our  preacher  ?  I  wished  to  hear  Mrs.  Murray  speak 
upon  the  subject ;  but  we  passed  on,  wrapped  in  contemplation.  At. 
length  I  broke  silence  :  Well,  my  dear,  what  are  your  sentiments  '{ 
"  Nay,  my  dear,  what  is  your  opinion  ?"  I  never  heard  truth,  unadul- 
terated truth,  before  ;  so  sure  as  there  is  a  God  in  heaven,  if  the  scrip- 
tures be  the  word  of  God,  the  testimony,  this  day  delivered,  is  tho  truth 
of  God.  It  is  the  first  consistent  sermon  I  have  ever  heard.  I  reach- 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  10F 

ed  home  full  of  this  sermon ;  took  up  the  Union,  read  it  with  new  pleas- 
are  ;  attended  again  and  again,  upon  Mr.  Relly,  and  was  more  and  more 
astonished.  Mr.  Hitchins  returned  home,  but,  as  I  conceived,  very 
much  changed,  more  inconsistent  than  ever.  "  No,  my  dear,"  said 
my  wife,  "  it  is  you,  who  are  changed  ;  he  preaches,  as  I  can  prove  by 
my  notes,  precisely  the  same,  yet  it  is  truly  surprising,  that  his  multipli- 
ed contradictions  have,  until  now,  passed  without  our  observation." 
Well,  said  I,  what  are  we  to  do  ?  Can  we,  in  future,  bear  such  incon- 
sistencies, now  that  we  are  better  informed  ?  Suppose  we  keep  our 
seats  as  usual ;  attending,  however,  one  half  of  every  Sabbath,  to  the 
preacher  of  Christ  Jusus  ?  On  this  we  immediately  determined,  and, 
by  this  expedient,  we  imagined  we  might  be  gratified  by  hearing  the 
truth,  without  running  the  risk  of  losing  our  reputation  ;  for  we  well 
knew,  that,  as  professed  adherents  of  Mr.  Relly,  we  could  no  longer 
preserve  that  spotless  fame  we  delighted  to  cherish. 

I  now  commenced  the  reading  of  the  Scriptures,  with  augmented 
diligence.  The  Bible  was  indeed  a  new  book  to  me  ;  the  veil  was  taken 
Uotn  my  heart,  and  the  word  of  my  God  became  right  precious  to  my 
soul.  Many  scriptures,  that  I  had  not  before  known,  forcibly  pressed 
upon  my  observation  ;  and  many,  that,  until  now,  I  had  not  suffered 
myself  to  believe.  Still  the  doctrine  of  election  distressed  me  ;  unfor- 
tunately, I  had  connected  this  doctrine  of  election  with  the  doctrine  of 
final  reprobation  :  not  considering,  that,  although  the  first  was  indubita- 
bly a  scripture  doctrine,  the  last  was  not  to  be  found  in,  nor  could  be 
supported  by  revelation.  I  determined  to  call  upon,  and  converse 
with  Mr.  Hitchins,  on  this  important  subject.  I  found  him  in  his  stu- 
dy, encompassed  about  with  the  writings  of  great  men.  I  wait  upon 
you,  sir,  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  help.  The  Arminians  show  me 
many  scriptures,  which  proclaim  the  universality  of  the  Atonement.  I 
cannot  answer  them.  What,  my  dear  sir,  shall  I  do  ?  "  Why,  sir, 
the  doctrines  of  election,  and  reprobation,  are  doctrines  we  are  bound 
to  believe,  as  articles  of  oar  faith  ;  but  1  can  say,  with  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Hervey,  I  never  wish  to  think  of  them,  except  upon  my  knees.  I 
never  heard  any  one  undertake  to  explain  them,  who  did  not  still  fur- 
ther embarrass  the  subject.  One  observation  is,  however,  conclusive, 
and  it  never  fails  effectually  to  silence  the  Arminian  :  That  if,  as  they 
affirm,  Christ  Jesus  died  for  all  men,  then  assuredly  all  men  must  he 
saved  ;  for  no  one  cait  be  eternally  lost,  for  whom  the  Redeemer  shed  /j./.s 
precious  blood  ;  such  an  event  is  impossible.  Now,  as  the  Arminians 
will  not  admit  a  possibility,  that  all  will  finally  be  saved,  they  are  thus 


'LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

easily  confounded."  This,  I  thought,  was  very  good  ;  it  was  clear,  as 
any  testimony  in  divine  revelation,  that  Christ  Jesus  died  for  all,  for 
the  sins  of  the  whole  world,  for  every  man,  &c.  &c.  ;  and  even  Mr. 
Hitchins  had  declared,  that  every  one,  for  whom  Christ  died,  must  final- 
ly be  saved.  This  I  took  home  with  me  to  ray  wife  :  she  saw  the 
truth,  that  we  were  so  well  prepared  to  embrace,  manifested  even  by 
the  testimony  of  its  enemies,  and  we  were  inexpressibly  anxious  to 
hear,  and  to  understand.  We  now  attended  public  worship,  not  only 
as  a  duty,  conceiving  that  we  thus  increased  a  fund  of  righteousness, 
upon  which  we  were  to  draw  in  every  exigence,  but  it  became  our 
pleasure,  our  consolation,  and  our  highest  enjoyment.  We  began  to 
feed  upon  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  and.  every  discovery  we  made  fil- 
led us  with  unutterable  transport.  I  regarded  my  friends  with  increas- 
ing affection,  and  I  conceived,  if  I  had  an  opportunity  of  conversing 
with  the  whole  world,  the  whole  world  would  be  convinced.  It  might 
truly  have  been  said,  that  we  had  a  taste  of  heaven  below. 

It  was  soon  whispered  in  the  Tabernacle,  that  I  had  frequently  been 
seen  going  to,  and  coming  from  Kelly's  meeting  !  This  alarmed  ma- 
ny, and  one  very  dear  friend  conversed  with  me  in  private  upon  the 
subject,  heard  what,  from  the  abundance  of  my  heart,  my  mouth  was 
constrained  to  utter,  smiled,  pitied  me,  and  begged  I  would  not  be  too 
communicative,  lest  the  business  should  be  brought  before  the  society, 
and  excommunication  might  follow.  I  thanked  him  for  his  caution  ; 
but,  as  I  had  conversed  only  with  him,  I  had  hazarded  nothing.  In  a 
short  time  I  was  cited  to  appear  before  the  society,  worshipping  in  Mr. 
Whitefield's  tabernacle  ;  I  obeyed  the  summons,  and  found  myself 
in  the  midst  of  a  very  gloomy  company,  all  seemingly  in  great  distress  ; 
they  sighed  very  bitterly,  and  at  last  gave  me  to  understand,  that  they 
had  heard,  I  had  become  an  attendant  upon  that  monster,  Kelly,  and 
they  wished  to  know  if  their  information  was  correct.  I  requested  I 
might  be  told,  from  whom  they  had  their  intelligence  ?  and  they  were 
evidently  embarrassed  by  my  question.  Stili,  however,  I  insisted 
upon  being  confronted  with  my  accuser,  and  they  at  length  consented 
to  summon  him;  but  1  was  nearly  petrified,  when  I  learned  it  was  the 
identical  friend,  who  had  privately  conversed  with  me,  and  who  had 
privately  cautioned  me,  that  had  lodged  the  information  against  me  ! 
Upon  this  friend  I  had  called,  in  my  way  to  the  tabernacle,  confiding  to 
him  my  situation  ;  he  said,  he  had  feared  the  event  ;  he  pitied  me,  and 
prayed  with  me.  But  he  did  not  calculate  upon  being  confronted  with 
Hie,  and  his  confusion  wu.s  too  great  to  anifer  his  attendance.  It  was 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  103 

then  referred  to  me  :  "  Was  it  a  fact,  had  I  attended  upon  Relly  ?" 
I  had.  "  Did  I  believe  what  I  heard  ?"  I  answered,  that  I  did — and 
my  trial  commenced.  They  could  not  prove,  I  had  violated  those  ar- 
ticles, to  which  I  had  subscribed.  I  had,  in  no  point  of  view,  infrin- 
ged the  contract,  by  which  I  was  bound.  J3ut  they  apprehended,  if  I 
continued  to  approbate  Relly,  by  my^ccasional  attendance  on  his 
ministry,  my  example  would  become  contagious  ;  except,  therefore,  I 
would  give  them  my  word,  that  I  would  wholly  abandon  this  perni- 
cious practicf ,  they  must,  however  unwillingly,  pronounce  upon  me 
the  sentence  of  excommunication.  I  refused  to  bind  myself  by  any 
promise  ;  I  assured  them,  I  would  continue  to  hear,  and  to  judge  for 
myself:  and  that  I  held  it  my  duty,  to  receive  the  truth  of  God  wherev- 
er it  might  be  manifested.  "  But  Relly  holds  the  truth  in  unright- 
eousness." Iftiave  nothing  to  do  with  his  unrighteousness  ;  my  own 
conduct  is  not  more  reprehensible,  than  heretofore.  They  granted  this  ; 
but  the  force  of  example  was  frequently  irresistible,  and,  if  I  were  per- 
mitted to  follow,  iincensured,  my  own  inclination,  others  might  claim 
the  same  indulgence,  to  the  utter  perversion  of  their  souls.  It  was 
then  conceded  in  my  favour,  that,  if  I  would  confine  my  sentiments  to 
my  own  bosom,  they  would  continue  me  a  member  of  their  commun- 
ion. I  refused  to  accede  to  this  proposal.  I  would  not  be  under  an 
obligation  to  remain  silent.  I  must,  so  often  as  opportunity  might 
present,  consider  myself  as  called  upon  to  advocate  truth.  The  ques- 
tion was  then  put — Should  I  he  considered  a  member  of  the  society 
upon  my  own  terms  ?  And  it  was  lost  by  only  three  voices. 

It  was  past  one  in  the  morning,  when  I  retiimed  home  to  my  poor, 
disconsolate  wife,  who  was  waiting  for  me ;  and  when  I  entered  her 
apartment,  my  spirits  were  so  sunk,  that,  throwing  myself  into  a  chair, 
I  burst  into  tears.  But  the  sweet  soother  of  my  every  woe,  hastened  to 
communicate  that  consolation,  she  was  so  eminently  qualified  to 
bestow.  "  Now,"  said  she,  "  for  the  first  time,  you  know  what  it  is 
to  suffer  for  Christ's  sake  ;  and  you  must  arm  yourself  with  fortitude  to 
bear,  what  the  adherents  of  Mr.  Relly  must  always  bear.  Let  us  offer 
up  praise  and  thanksgiving,  that  it  is  no  wrorse.  Fear  not  those,  who  can 
only  kill  the  body  ;  these,  however,  have  not  power  to  kill  the  body  ;  it  is 
true,  they  can  do  more ;  they  can  murder  our  good  name,  which  is 
rather  to  be  chosen  than  life  itself.  But  let  us  not  fear  ;  our  God  will 
be  with  us,  He  will  preserve,  and  protect  us."  Our  hearts,  however, 
were  very  full,  and  with  great  devotion  we  wept  and  prayed  together. 
About  this  time,  the  grandfather  .  of  my  Eliza  sent  ior  her  to  visit 
him,  at  his  country  seat,  ten  miles  from  London ;  this  was  highly 


104  LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

gratifying,  and  abundantly  more  so,  as  I  also  was  included  in  the  invi- 
tation. After  seeing,  and  conversing  with  me,  he  sincerely  lamented, 
that  he  had  been  so  far  duped  by  the  artful,  and  designing,  as  to  put 
the  disposition  of  the  greater  part  of  his  property  at  his  decease  entirely 
out  of  his  own  power;  but  what  he  could  do,  he  most  cheerfully  did, 
Yet  even  here  we  were  pursued  by  disappointment.  He  requested  me 
to  procure  him  a  capable,  sober  domestic  j  and  I  engaged  a  woman, 
who,  as  I  believed,  answered  his  description ;  but,  proving  an  artful 
hussey,  she  gradually'  obtained,  over  the  mind  of  the  old  gentleman,  an 
astonishing  influence,  that  resulted  in  a  marriage,  which  effectually 
prevented  his  family  connexions  from  ever  again  visiting  him  !  Thus 
were  our  new-born  expectations,  from  a  reconciled  parent, levelled  with 
the  dust.  A  series  of  calamities  succeeded  ;  those,  whom  I  had  es- 
teemed my  best,  and  dearest  friends,  proved  my  most  inveterate  foes, 
and,  finding  it  impossible  to  reclaim  us,  from  what  they  conceived  paths 
of  error,  persecuted  us  with  unceasing  virulence.  Presents,  bestowed 
in  the  days  of  confidence,  as  tokens  of  affection,  were  claimed  as  legal 
debts  ;  and  as  the  law  does  not  allow  presents,  I  was  arrested  for  the 
amount,  betrayed,  by  my  religious  friends,  into  the  hands  of  bailiffs,  at 
a  time  when,  had  the  promised  lenity  been  exercised,  I  could  have 
paid  to  the  utmost  farthing.  Thus  heaven  thought  proper  to  keep  us 
low  ;  but  our  faith  increased,  and  we  cherished  that  hope,  which  mak- 
eth  not  ashamed;  and, even  while  struggling  with  difficulties,  we  enjoy- 
ed a  heaven  upon  earth.  Gradually  I  surmounted  the  greater  part  of 
my  difficulties.  At  the  house  of  our  brother  William,  I  had  an  inter- 
view with  our  once  obdurate  younger  brother  ;  he  seemed  penetrated 
with  sorrow  for  our  long-continued  estrangement ;  he  hung  upon  my 
neck,  wept  bitterly,  and  expressed  a  fear,  that  I  could  never  forgive  him, 
I  also  shed  many  tears,  and  extending  to  him  the  hand  of  amity,  clasped 
him  to  my  bosom,  with  a  most  cordial  embrace.  This  was  a  most 
pleasant  circumstance  to  my  beloved  Eliza  ;  all  now  seemed  delightful. 
We  had  a.  sweet  little  retirement  in  a  rural  part  of  the  city  ;  we  wanted 
but  little,  and  our  wants  were  all  supplied  ;  and  perhaps  we  enjoyed  as 
much,  as  human  nature  can  enjoy.  One  clear  pledge  of  love,  a  son, 
whom  my  wife  regarded  as  the  image  of  his  father,  completed  our  fe- 
licity. But,  alas  !  this  boy  was  lent  us  no  more  than  one  short  year  ! 
He  expired  in  the  arms  of  his  agonized  mother,  whose  health,  from 
that  fatal  moment,  began  rapidly  to  decline.  I  was  beyond  expression 
terrified.  Physicians  recommended  the  country;  but  my  business  con- 
fined me  in  London,  and  my  circumstances  wcuild  not  admit  of  my 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY 

renting  two  houses.  I  took  lodgings  at  a  small  distance  from  town, 
returning  my  self  every  day  to  London.  The  disorder  advanced  with 
terrific  strides  ;  my  soul  was  tortured  ;  every  time  I  approached  her 
•hamber,  even  the  sigh,  which  proclaimed  she  still  lived,  administered  a 
melancholy  relief.  This  was  indeed  a  time  of  sorrow  and  distress,  be- 
yond what  I  had  ever  before  known  ;  I  have  been  astonished  how  I  ex- 
isted through  such  scenes.  Surely,  in  every  time  of  trouble,  God  is  a 
very  present  help.  I  was  obliged  to  remove  the  dear  creature,  during 
ter  reduced  situation,  the  house  in  which  I  had  taken  lodgings  being 
sold  ;  but  I  obtained  for  her  a  situation  aboitt  four  miles  from  town. 
The  scenes  around  her  new  lodgings  were  charming;  she  seemed 
pleased,  and  I  was  delighted.  For  a  few  days  we  believed  her  bet- 
ter, and  again  I  experienced  all  the  rapture  of  hope.  My  difficulties, 
however,  were  many  ;  I  was  necessitated  to  pass  my  days  in  London  ; 
eould  I  have  continued  with  her,  it  would  have  been  some  relief. 
But  as  my  physician  gave  me  no  hope,  when  I  parted  from  her 
in  the  morning,  I  was  frequently  terrified  in  the  dread  of  meet- 
ing death  on  my  return.  Often,  for  my  sake,  did  the  sweet , 
angel  struggle  to  appear  relieved,  but,  alas  !  I  could  discern  it  was 
a  struggle,  and  my  anguish  became  still  more  poignant.  To  add 
to  my  distresses,  poverty  came  in  like  a  fiood.  I  had  my  house  in 
town,  a  servant  there  ;  the  doctor,  the  apothecary,  the  nurse,  the  lodg- 
ings in  the  country  ;  every  thing  to  provide ;  daily  passing,  and  repassing. 
Truly  my  heart  was  very  sore.  I  was  friendless.  My  religious 
friends  had,  on  my  hearing  and  advocating  the  doctrines,  preached  by 
all  God's  holy  prophets  ever  since  the  world  began,  become  my  most 
inveterate  foes.  Our  grandfather  was  under  the  dominion  of  the  wo- 
man I  had  introduced  to  him,  who  had  barred  his  doors  against  us  ;  the 
heart  of  our  younger  brother  was  again  closed,  and,  as  if  angry  with 
himself  for  the  concessions  ha  had  made,  was  more  than  ever  estranged  ; 
and  even  our  elder  brother,  who  in  every  situation  had  for  a  long  sea- 
son evinced  himself  my  faithful  friend,  had  forsaken  us  !  I  had,  most  ' 
indiscreetly,  ventured  to  point  out  some  errors  in  the  domestic  ar-  ; 
rangements  of  his  wife,  which  I  believed  would  eventuate  in  hi-;  ruin,  \ 
and  he  so  far  resented  this  freedom,  as  to  abandon  all  intercourse  with  / 
me.  Among  Mr.  Kelly's  acquaintance  I  had  no  intimates,  indeed 
hardly  an  acquaintance  ;  I  had  suffered  s6  much  from  religious  con- 
nexions, that  I  had  determined,  as  much  as  possible,  to  stand  aloof, 
during  the  residue  of  my  journey  through  life.  Thus  was  I  circum- 
stanced, when  the  fell  destroyer  of  my  peace  aimed  his  most  deadly 
shafts  at  the  bosom  of  a  being,  far  dearer  to  me  than  my  existence. 


106  LIKE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

My  credit  failing,  my  wants  multiplying,  blessed  be  God,  my  Eliza 
was  ignorant  of  the  extent  of  my  sufferings  ;  she  would  have  surren- 
dered up  her  life,  even  if  she  had  feared  death,  rather  than  have  per- 
mitted an  application  to  either  of  her  brothers  ;  yet  was  I,  by  the  ex- 
tremity of  my  distress,  precipitated  upon  a  step  so  humiliating.  Stop- 
ping at  a  coffee-house  near  our  brother  William's,  I  penned  a  hur- 
ried line,  requesting  he  would  give  me  an  immediate  meeting  ;  and 
sending  it  by  a  porter,  I  waited,  in  agony  indescribable,  its  effect.  Al- 
most instantaneously  he  entered  the  coffee-house,  and,  without  utter- 
ing a  word,  took  a  seat ;  nor  was  I  for  some  moments  able  to  articulate. 
My  soul  was  tortured  ;  he  saw  it,  and  could  not  avoid,  feeling.  At 
length  he  questioned,  "  Pray  what  is  the  matter  ?"  Your  sister  is 
very  near  her  end,  and,  were  we  both  so,  it  would  be  to  me  cause  of 
exultation,  and  you  would  have  been  spared  this  trouble.  My  appli- 
cation to  you  will  be  a  sufficient  explanation  of  my  circumstances;  and 
should  you  think  proper  to  call  upon  a  once  dear,  now  dying  sister, 
I  have  to  request,  you  would  not  notice  my  having  sought  this  inter- 
view, it  would  embitter  the  last  moments  of  her  life.  He  was  amaz- 
ingly shocked,  yet,  as  this  was  the  first  syllable  he  had  heard  of  her 
indisposition,  he  flattered  himself  my  fears  had  magnified  the  danger  ; 
but  he  assured  me,  he  would  see  her  without  delay.  I  however  de- 
sired, he  would  grant  me  time  to  prepare  her  for  his  visit ;  it  must,  said 
I,  appear  entirely  accidental,  and  I  hastened  to  our  lodgings.  I  met 
your  brother  William,  my  love,  who,  having  heard  you  are  indisposed, 
kindly  inquired  after  you  ;  I  think  he  means  to  visit  you.  '*  If,  my 
precious  friend,  you  have  not  descended  so  low,  as  to  ask  any  favour 
©f  him,  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  him."  I  will  not,  my  love,  do  any  thing, 
which  I  ought  not  to  do.  I  sat  down  by  her  bedside.  That  face, 
upon  which  strangers  had  gazed  enraptured,  was  now  the  seat  of  death's 
wan  harbinger,  and  her  struggles  to  conceal  her  sufferings  were  but  too 
risible.  Quitting  the  room,  I  inquired  of  the  nurse,  how  she  had  been 
during  my  absence  ?  She  told  me,  she  had  endured  much  pain,  was 
very  anxious  for  my  return,  and  expressed  a  fear,  that  she  should  never 
again  behold  me.  I  was  summoned  by  the  mistress  of  the  house,  who 
was  so  charmed  by  the  deportment  of  my  Eliza,  and  had  conceived  so 
great  an  affection  for  her,  as  to  find  it  difficult  to  quit  her  apartment. 
But  my  suffering  friend,  taking  my  hand,  and  drawing  me  near  her, 
whispered  a  wish,  that  we  might  be  alone  ;  I  gave  the  good  lady  a 
hint,  who  instantly  withdrew.  I  kneeled  by  her  bedside  :  she  drew 
me  Hoser  to  her.  and  throwing  her  feeble,  her  emaciated  arms  around 


OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  107 

iny  neck,  she  gave  me  an  ardent  embrace  ;  I  was  unutterably  affected. 
M  Be  composed,  my  dear,"  said  she,  "  and  let  these  precious  moments 
be  as  calm  as  possible  ;  we  may  not  be  allowed  another  opportunity. 
Dear  faithful  friend,  in  life, — in  death,  dearer  to  me  than  my  own  soul, — 
God  reward  you  for  all  the  kind  care  you  have  taken  of  me.  O  !  may 
my  heavenly  Father  provide  some  one  to  supply  my  place,  who  may 
reciprocate  the  kindness  you  have  shown  me.  Pray  be  composed  ;  re- 
member we  are  not  at  home  ;  that  we  shall  shortly  meet  in  our  Fa- 
ther's house'^ — here  she  paused — and  again  resuming — "  Our  part- 
ing, when  compared  with  eternity,  will  be  but  for  a  moment.  What 
though  we  have  not  continued  together  so  long  as  we  fondly  expected, 
yet,  my  love,  we  have  had  an  age  of  happiness.  It  is  you,  my  precioui 
husband,  who  are  the  object  of  pity.  God  all  gracious  console,  and 
support  you.  Be  of  good  cheer,  my  love,  we  shall  meet  in  the  king- 
dom of  the  Redeemer — indeed,  indeed  we  shall."  Again  she  threw 
her  dying  arms  around  me  ;  her  soul  seemed  struggling  with  the  mag- 
nitude of  her  emotions.  For  me,  I  could  not  have  articulated  a  sylla- 
ble for  the  world.  It  is  astonishing  I  did  not  expire  ;  but  there  is  a 
time  to  die.  Again,  like  the  wasting  taper,  she  seemed  to  revive. 
Again,  with  uncommon  energy,  she  pronounced,  upon  her  almost  fren- 
zied husband,  the  most  solemn  benediction  ;  this  brought  on  a  cough, 
she  pointed  to  a  phial  upon  her  dressing  table.  I  gave  her  a  few  drops. 
"  There,  my  best  friend,  I  am  better — Be  composed  my  faithful,  my 
suffering  guide,  protector,  husband.  Oh  1  trust  in  the  Lord  :  let  us, 
my  love,- stay  upon  the  God  of  our  salvation  ;  He  will  never  leave  us  ; 
He  will  never  forsake  us" — Then,  grasping  my  hand,  she  continued  : 
"  These  moments,  my  dear,  are  very  precious  ;  we  have  had  many  pre- 
cious moments  ;  you  will  not  go  out  again,  I  shall  not  again  lose  sight  of 
you.  You  will  abide  with  me,so  long  as  I  shall  continue" — I  could  con  tain 
no  longer:  My  suppressed  agony  became  audible  :  she  drew  me  to  her  : 
*'  Do  not  distress  me,  my  love" — She  wras  deeply  affected  ;  her  cough 
came  on  with  additional  violence.  The  sound  of  my  voice  brought  in  the 
land  lady  of  the  house;  she  believed  the  angel  had  escaped.  I  requested 
her,  to  reach  the  phial.  The  expiring  saint  motioned  it  away  ;  "  It  is  ton 
late,  my  love,"  she  would  have  added  ;  but  utterance  instantly  failed 
her,  and,  without  a  single  struggle,  she  breathed  her  last,  still  holding 
my  hand  fast  in  hers.  I  was  on  my  knees  by  her  bedside  ;  I  saw  sho 
was  breathless,  but  she  still  held  my  hand.  Ten  thousand  worlds,  had 
1  possessed  them,  I  would  have  given  for  permission  to  lave  accom- 
panied, her  beatified  spirit.  I  am  astonished  that  I  retained  jyir  reason. 


10S  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

Only  a  few  weeks,  a  few  tremendous  weeks,  since  the  commencemeni 
of  her  illness,  had  rolled  on,  when,  kneeling  in  speecnici-s  agony  by  her 
bedside,  I  saw  her  breathe  her  last;  she  expired  without  a  sigh,  without 
a  pang,  and  I  was  lelt  to  the  extreme  of  wretchedness.  A  few  mo- 
ments gave  me  to  reflection — I  contemplated  her  form,  beaut. i'ul  even  in 
death  ;  she  was  now  no  more  a  sufferer  either  in  body  or  mind,  and,  for 
a  little  while,  I  derived  malignant  satisfaction,  from  the  con^  aeration  of 
what  her  brothers  would  endure,  when  they  found, 'that,  in  this  world, 
they  should  no  more  behold  her.  1  was  shocked  at  myself;  it  scvined 
as  if  the  sainted  spirit  mildly  reproved  me  ;  1  clasped  my  haud>  in  ago- 
ny ;  I  supplicated  pardon  of  the  deceased,  and  of  her  God.  It  ap- 
peared to  me,  I  had  been  deficient  in  affection,  and  the  idea  spoke  dag- 
gers to  my  soul.  Memory  cruelly  summoned  before  me  many  instan- 
ces, in  which  she  might  have  been  obliged,  but  distraction  was  in  this 
thought.  I  sat  in  speechless  agony  by  her  bedside  ;  having  locked  the 
door,  no  one  could  obtain  entrance.  Almighty  God,  how  unutt  rable 
were  the  sorrows  of  my  soul  1  !  ! 

I  was  aroused  from  this  state,  by  the  arrival  c  ~  our  brother  William. 
He  obtained  entrance  ;  he  glanced  upon  the  bed — gaz  d  for  a  moment 
— averted  his  eyes — trembled,  and  became  pale  as  the  face  of  my  lamen- 
ted saint — and  at  length,  in  silent  agony,  quitted  the  apartment.  The 
good  lady  of  the  house  now  made  her  appearance,  and  in  a  tone  of  sym- 
pathy supplicated  me  to  retire.  The  necessary  offices  were  performed, 
and  all  that  remained  of  my  wedded  friend  was  prepared  for  the  under- 
taker, who  came  by  the  order  of  her  opulent  brother  :  that  brother,  who 
had  nefariously  robbed  her  of  her  right  of  inheritance,  who  contributed 
so  largely,  while  she  lived,  to  her  sufferings,  and  who  now  endured  an- 
guish more  than  equivalent,  for  all  the  riches  of  the  world.  A  hearse 
and  mourning  coaches  attended,  and  the  dear  remains,  followed  by  her 
brothers  and  their  families,  were  entombed  in  the  family  vault.  The 
coachman  was  directed  to  convey  me,  after  the  interment,  to  the  house 
of  our  younger  brother.  He  was  again  a  prey  to  contrition  and  to  sor- 
row, and  he  urged  me  to  cherish  hope.  I  assured  him,  I  had  nothing 
to  do  with  hope,  at  least  in  this  world.  He  made  great  professions  of 
affection,  and  liberal  promises  of  future  kindness  ;  but  it  was  too  late  ; 
and  though  I  believe  he  was  at  the  time  sincere,  yet,  when  his  strong 
feelings  subsided,  he  was  himself  again. 

Here  I  close  another  period  of  my  eventful  life  !  What  a  sad  reverse  ! 
A  fe'.v  short  weeks  since,  I  was  in  the  mose  enviable  circumstances  ; 
my  situation  was  charming,  my  dwelling  neat  and  commodious,  my  wife. 


LIFE  GF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 


109 


the  object  of  my  soul's  devout  and  sincere  affection,  her  lovely  offspring 
swelling  the  rapture  of  the  scene,  a  male  and  female  domestic  attached 
to  our  persons,  and  faithful  to  our  interest  ;  and  the  pleasing  hope,  that 
I  should  enjoy  a  long  succession  of  these  delights.  Now  I  was  alone  in 
the  world  ;  no  wife,  no  child,  no  domestics,  no  home  ;  nothing  but  the 
ghosts  of  my  departed  joys.  In  religion,  and  religion  only,  the  last  re- 
sort of  the  wretched,  I  found  the  semblance  of  repose  ;  religion  taught 
me  to  contemplate  the  state,  to  which  I  was  hastening  ;  my  dreams  pre- 
sented my  departed  Eliza  ;  I  saw  her  in  a  variety  of  views,  but  in  every 
view  celestial  :  sometimes  she  was  still  living,  but  in  haste  to  be  gone  : 
sometimes  she  descended  upon  my  imagination,  an  heavenly  visitant, 
commissioned  to  conduct  me  home ;  and  so  much  of  felicity  did  I  derive 
from  those  dreams,  that  I  longed  for  the  hour  of  repose,  that  T  might 
reiterate  the  visionary  bliss. 

But  new  embarrassments  awaited  me  ;  doctors,  apothecaries,  grocers, 
&c.  &c.  advanced  with  their  bills  ;  yet  I  was  not  much  affected,  I  was 
overwhelmed  by  far  greater  afflictions.  My  health  had  greatly  suffered. 
My  sight,  by  excess  of  sorrow, — so  said  my  physician, — was  almost 
gone.  Often  have  I  traversed  George's- Fields,  where  many  have  met 
death  on  the  point  of  the  foot-pad's  dagger,  in  the  mournful  hope  of 
meeting  a  similar  fate  ;  forgetting,  in  the  state  to  which  I  was  reduced, 
that,  in  thus  devoting  myself  to  destruction,  I  indubitably  ranked  with 
the  self -murderer.  The  eldest  brother  of  my  departed  friend  contin- 
ued, from  the  period  of  his  sister's  demise,  uniformly  kind  ;  through  his 
instrumentality,  many  of  my  most  pressing  debts  were  discharged. 
My  mind  seemed  subdued  ;  it  became  a  fit  residence  for  sorrow,  when 
I  received  a  letter  from  Ireland,  written  by  my  brother  James.  Many  of 
our  family  were  numbered  with  the  dead  ;  of  all  her  children,  my 
mother  had  now  only  three  surviving  sons,  and  two  daughters.  My 
eldest  sister  was  married;  and  my  mother, leaving  our  common  property 
in  her  care,  was  about  to  repair  with  her  youngest  daughter,  and  two 
sons,  to  England.  She  was  not  apprized  of  the  death  of  my  Eliza.  I 
had  written  her,  that  I  was  blest  with  a  most  lovely,  and  exemplary 
companion  ;  but  from  the  death  of  my  son,  and  the  farther,  and  en- 
tire prostration  of  my  terrestrial  happiness,  I  l^ad  suspended  my  com- 
munications. I  was  now  again  necessitated  to  take  a  house  ;  my  mo- 
ther and  my  brothers  resided  with  me  ;  and  my  sister  with  a  lady,  to 
whom  she  had  been  introduced  in  Ireland.  She  hooii  after  married, 
and,  as  I  believed  imprudently,  and  I  saw  her  no  more.  1  now 
lived  a  mournful  life  •  the  world  appeared  to  me  in  a  very  different 


I  10  UFE    OF    REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

point  of  view,  from  what  it  had  formerly  done  ;  yet  I  derived  ecstatic 
pleasure  from  my  views  of  revelation.  William  Neale  became  con- 
vinced of  the  truth,  as  it  is  in  Jesus  ;  and,  of  course,  an  adherent  of  Mr. 
Relly.  This  soothed  me,  and  the  word  of  God  was  au  abiding  con- 
solation. To  a  few  individuals  I  was  made  a  messenger  of  peace  ;  but 
my  mother,  and  my  brother  James,  remained  inveterate  opposers  of 
the  doctrines  I  had  embraced.  I  sometimes  visited  the  tabernacle, 
and,  conceiving  an  affection  for  all  men,  I  had  a  kind  of  satisfaction  in 
standing  in  the  rnidst  of  my  brethren.  It  was  at  the  tabernacle  I  was 
informed,  that  a  poor,  unhappy,  widowed  woman,  sister  to  a  man 
whom  I  had  loved,  was  in  most  deplorable  circumstances ;  she  had 
been  deceived  by  a  villain ;  her  kindred  had  been  made  acquainted  with 
her  situation,  but  their  indignation  was  kindled  against  her  ;  they  would 
not  see  her  ;  and  her  religious  connexions  abandoned  her,  while  she  was 
suffering  all  the  miseries  of  want,  accompanied  by  her  own  agonizing 
reflections.  I  discovered  her  in  a  miserable  room  ;  no  glass  in  the 
windows,  no  fire  in  the  chimney  ;  she  was  laying  on  something  which 
had  been  a  bed  ;  a  child,  of  a  few  days  old,  in  her  bosom,  but  no 
nourishment  for  it ;  another  child  dead  by  her  side,  and  a  third  ap- 
parently dying.  Upon  my  entrance  she  covered  her  face  with  her 
hands.  "  I  know  you,  sir  ;  you  are  come  to  upbraid  rne  ;  yes,  I  deserve 
it  all ;  but  by  and  by  my  measure  will  be  full."  I  burst  into  tear?. 
I  come  to  upbraid  you  1  God  forbid.  No,  poor  sufferer,  I  am  come 
a  messenger  from  that  God,  who  giveth  liberally,  and  upbraideth  not. 
Be  of  good  cheer,  you  have  still  a  Father,  who  loves  you  with  an 
everlasting  love,  and  he  has  sent  me  to  comfort  you  ;  he  has  seen  your 
affliction,  and  he  has  bid  me  relieve  you. 

This  seemed  too  much  for  the  poor,  forlorn  creature  ;  she  appeared 
in  the  moment  of  expiring.  I  ran  out  of  the  house,  into  a  shop  at  the 
corner  of  the  alley,  the  mistress  of  which  was,  to  my  knowledge, 
perfectly  acquainted  with  the  situation  of  the  sufferer.  I  demanded, 
why  she  thus  neglected  a  human  being  1  "  Ah,  the  wretched  creature, 
she  deserves  this  and  more,"  was  this  good  woman's  reply.  But  al- 
though neither  the  love  of  God,  nor  of  human  nature,  could  move  this 
hard-hearted  woman,  I  had  that  in  my  pocket,  which  possessed,  for 
her,  an  irresistible  charm  ;  and,  at  the  hazard  of  my  reputation,  I  bade 
her  procure  coal,  a  restorative  cordial,  and  a  blanket  to  cover  the  sufferer. 
I  then  proceeded  to  the  dwelling  of  a  lady,  one  of  Mr.  Kelly's 
congregation,  to  whom  I  had  recently  been  introduced  ;  I  represented 
the  situation,  in  which,  in  the  midst  of  an  opulent  city,  I  had  discovered 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  Ill 

a  fellow  creature.  The  lady  was  extremely  affected,  and  her  aid  was 
instantaneous.  The  next  day,  Sunday,  I  again  visited  the  poor  penitent, 
whom  I  found  relieved  and  comforted.  She  requested  me,  with  many 
tears,  to  put  up  a  note  for  her  in  the  tabernacle.  There  happened,  on 
that  day,  to  preach  in  the  tabernacle,  a  Mr.  Edwards,  whom  I  had  for- 
merly known,  in  connexion  with  Mr.  Wesley.  I  presented  a  note  in 
the  following  words  :  The  prayers  of  this  congregation  are  requested  in 
behalf  of  a  widow  indeed,  confined  to  a  bed  of  sickness,  without  pro- 
perty, and  encompassed  by  the  dying  and  the  dead.  I  attended  again 
in  the  tabernacle  in  the  evening,  and  when  the  sermon  closed,  Mr.  Ed- 
wards said  :  "  If  the  person  be  here,  who  put  up  the  note  this  morning, 
in  behalf  of  a  widow  indeed,  I  should  be  giad  to  speak  with  him  in  the 
vestry."  Accordingly  presenting  myself,  I  was  very  cordially  received 
by  Mr.  Edwards,  who  observed,  he  was  happy  I  was  the  person  ;  „  that 
his  feelings  had  been  greatly  affected  by  the  note;  that  he  had  read  it  to 
a  lady,  at  whose  house  he  had  dined,  who,  putting  two  guineas  into  his 
hand,  requested  him,  if  possible,  to  find  out  the  widow  indeed,  and  bes- 
tow them  upon  her.  T  conveyed  this  little  sum  to  the  sorrowing  woman, 
with  feelings,  which  those  who  know  how  to  sympathize  with  the  unfor- 
tunate will  easily  understand  ;  and  I  assured  the  poor  mourner,  that 
the  God,  who  gives  and  forgives,  had  sent  her  another  proof  of  his  fa- 
vour. Arise,  said  T,  forlorn  sufferer,  and  sin  no  more.  I  had  the 
charge  of  the  child's  funeral  ;  the  other  recovered.  The  mother  was 
soon  abroad,  and  continued,  ever  after,  to  conduct  with  exemplary  pro- 
priety. This  instance,  among  a  thousand  others,  proves,  that  faith  in  the 
promises  is  the  best  stimulus  to  that  pure,  and  undefiled  religion,  which 
consists  in  relieving  the  oppressed  of  every  description  :  and  with  grati- 
tude I  confess,  that  this  pure  and  undefiled  religion  was,  to  me,  a  never- 
failing  source  of  consolation.  I  was  full  of  the  gospel  ;  gladly  would  I 
have  sacrificed  my  life,  if  I  might  thus  have  brought  all  men  acquainted 
with  the  riches  of  the  grace  of  the  gospel  of  God  our  Saviour  ;  and  my 
soul  was  often  wrought  up  to  a  degree  of  ecstacy,  by  the  views,  exhibited 
to  my  understanding,  in  the  pages  of  divine  revelation.  Yes,  I  have 
experienced,  that  a  belief  of  the  truth  disposes  the  mind  to  love  God,  and 
to  do  good  to  man  ;  and  so  greatly  was  my  heart  affected  by  the  plan 
of  redemption,  that  I  have,  in  the  midst  of  the  streets  of  London,  been 
so  entranced  in  contemplating  its  glories,  that  I  have  only  been  awaken- 
ed to  recollection,  by  the  jostling  crowd,  who  wondered  as  they  passed  ; 
yet,  while  in  the  fulness  of  my  heart,  I  embraced  every  opportunity  of 
expatiating  upon  the  great  salvation  4  every  thing  beside  had  lost  tjrt 


112  tIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

power  to  charm,  or  even  tranquillize,  and  the  torturing  sensations  I  ex- 
perienced, from  reflecting  upon  past  times,  were  not  to  be  expressed  : 
Death  had  for  me  an  angel's  face,  and  I  viewed  this  sometimes  king  of 
ferntrs,  as  my  emancipating  friend. 

The  forbearance  of  my  creditors  was  at  length  exhausted.  Debts 
crowded  upon  me.  Demands,  which  I  was  utterly  unable  to  answer, 
were  continually  made.  Had  the  health  of  my  lovely  wife  been  con- 
tinued, I  was  in  a  very  fine  way.  Her  sickness,  her  death,  by  dashing 
from  me  the  cup  of  felicity,  while  expenses  accumulated,  debilitated  my 
mind,  and  rendered  me  unequal  to  those  efforts,  which  my  exigencies 
required.  In  the  midst  of  my  supineness,  I  was  taken  by  a  writ,  and 
borne  to  a  spunging-house.  My  sensations  were, "on  this  occasion,  very 
different  from  those,  which  I  had  formerly  experienced,  in  a  similar  situ- 
ation ;  and  I  derived,  from  the  expected  seclusion,  a  kind  of  melan- 
choly pleasure.  The  officer  was  astonished  at  my  apathy;  I  refused  sus- 
tenance, I  had  no  inclination  for  food.  I  would  swallow  nothing,  but 
water.  I  would  have  no  bed  :  a  bed  must  be  paid  for,  and  I  was  pen- 
niless. I  slept  on  the  floor  of  a  room,  hung  with  cobwebs,  the  windows 
of  which  were  secured  by  iron  bars.  I  prayed  most  fervently  to  Him, 
with  whom  are  the  issues  of  life  and  death,  that,  as  He  had  not  allowed 
his  creatures  the  privilege  of  departing  out  of  time,  when,  and  how  they 
pleased,  He  would  graciously  vouchsafe  to  grant  me  my  deliverance 
from  a  world,  where  I  could  serve  neither  my  God,  my  neighbour,  nor 
myself.  But,  alas  !  as  I  have  often  found,  death  comes  not  at  call. 
The  barred  windows  admitted  just  light  enough  to  announce  the  return 
of  day  ;  soon  after  which,  the  keeper  unlocked  the  door,  and  in  a  surly 
manner,  asked  me  how  I  did  ?  Indifferent,  sir,  I  replied.  "  By  G — , 
I  think  so  !  but,  sir,  give  me  leave  to  tell  you,  I  am  not  indifferent,  and 
if  you  do  not  very  soon  settle  with  your  creditors,  I  shall  take  the  liber- 
ty to  lodge  you  in  Newgate.  I  keep  nobody  in  my  house  that  does  not 
spend  any  thing,  damn-me.  I  cannot  keep  house,  and  pay  rent,  and 
taxes  for  nothing.  When  a  gentleman  behaves  civil,  I  behave  civil  ; 
but,  damn-me,  if  they  are  sulky,  why  then,  do  ye  see,  I  can  be  sulky 
too  ;  so,  sir,  you  had  better  tell  me  what  you  intend  to  do  ?"  Nothing. 
"Nothing?  damn-me,*  that's  a  good  one  ;  then,  by  G — ,  you  shall  soon 
see  I  will  do  something,  that  you  will  not  very  well  like."  He  then 
turned  upon  his  heel,  drew  the  door  with  a  vengeance,  and  double- 
locked  it.  Soon  after  this,  his  helpmate  presented  herself,  and  began  to 
apologize  for  her  husband  ;  said  he  was  very  quick;  hoped  I  would  not 
be  offended,  for  he  was  a  very  good  man  in  the  main;  that  she  believed 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  113 

there  never  was  a  gentleman  in  that  house,  (and  she  would  be  bold  to 
say,  there  had  been  as  good  gentlemen  there,  as  in  any  house  in  London) 
who  had  ever  any  reason  to  complain  of  his  conduct.  He  would  wait 
upon  any  of  my  friends,  to  whom  I  should  think  fit  to  send  him,  and  do 
all  in  his  power  to  make  matters  easy  ;  "  and  if  you  please,  sir,  you  are 
welcome  to  come  down  into  the  parlour,  and  breakfast  with  me." 
And  pray,  my  good  lady,  where  are  you  to  get  your  pay  ?  "  O,  I  will 
trust  to  that,  sir  ;  I  am  sure  you  are  a  gentleman  ;  do,  sir,  come  down 
and  breakfast  ;  you  will  be  better  after  breakfast.  Bless  your  soul,  sir. 
why  there  have  been  hundreds,  who  settled  their  affairs,  and  did  very 
well  afterwards."  I  was  prevailed  upon  to  go  down  to  breakfast. 
There  was,  in  the  centre  of  ihe  entry,  a  door  half  way  up,  with  long 
spikest;  every  window  was  barred  with  iron;  escape  was  impossible  ;  and 
indeed  I  had  no  wish  to  escape  :  a  kind  of  mournful  insensibility  perva- 
ded my  soul,  for  which  I  was  not  then  disposed  to  account,  but  which 
I  have  since  regarded  as  an  instance  of  divine  goodness,  calculated  to 
preserve  my  little  remains  of  health,  as  well  as  that  reason,  which  had 
frequently  tottered  in  its  seat.  To  the  impertinent  prattle  of  the  female 
turnkey  I  paid  no  attention,  but,  hastily  swallowing  a  cup  of  tea,  I  re- 
tired to  my  prison.  This  irritated  her ;  she  expected  I  would  have  tar- 
ried below,  and,  as  is  the  custom,  summoned  my  friends,  who,  whether 
they  did  any  thing  for  my  advantage  or  not,  would,  by  calling  for  punch, 
wine,  &c.  &c.  unquestionably  contribute  to  the  advantage  of  the  house. 
But  as  I  made  no  proposal  of  this  kind,  nor  indeed  ever  intended  so 
to  do,  they  saw  it  was  improbable  they  should  reap  any  benefit  by  or 
from  me  ;  arid  having  given  me  a  plentiful  share  of  abuse,  and  appearing 
much  provoked,  that  they  could  not  move  me  to  anger,  they  were  pre- 
paring to  carry  ine  to  Newgate,  there  to  leave  me  among  other  poor, 
desperate  debtors  ;  and  their  determination  being  thus  fixed,  I  was  at 
liberty  to  continue  in  my  gloomy  apartment,  and,  what  I  esteemed  an 
especial  favour,  to  remain  there  uninterrupted.  I  received  no  invitation 
either  to  dinner,  tea,  or  supper.;  they  just  condescended  to  inform  me, 
when  they  came  to  lock  me  in,  that  I  should  have  another  lodging  the 
ensuing  night  :  to  which  I  made  no  reply.  My  spirits,  however,  sunk 
in  the  prospect  of  Newgate.  There,  I  was  well  informed,  I  could  not 
be  alone  ;  there,  I  knew,  my  associates  would  many  of  them  be  atro- 
cious offenders,  and  I  was  in  truth  immeasurably  distressed.  It  was 
now,  that  every  argument,  which  I  had  ever  read  in  favour  of  suicide, 
was  most  orlieiour-ly  obtruded  upon  my  mind,  and  warmly  impressed 
upon  my  imagination.  It  was  etatod* that  mv  Almisjhtv  Father  could 


114  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

not  be  angry  with  me  for  leaving  such  a  world,  in  such  circumstances  • 
the  opposition  of  reason  seemed  to  result  from  the  prejudices  of  educa- 
tion ;  "  and,"  said  illusive  fancy,  "  as  it  is  appointed  for  all  men  once  to 
die,  to  do  that  to-day,  which  I  may  do  to-morrow,  and  what  I  must 
shortly  do,  cannot  be  very  wrong."  It  is  true,  my  monitor  assured  me, 
that  the  God,  who  had  created  me,  was  the  only  proper  judge  of  the  ex- 
act moment,  when  I  ought  to  be  removed  out  of  time  ;  that  He  best 
knew  what  benefit  might  accrue  to  myself,  or  the  community,  by  my 
longer  continuance  in  this  vale  of  tears  ;  yet  these  remarks,  with  many 
more  of  the  same  description,  were  not  sufficiently  imposing  to  endow 
me  with  resolution  still  to  "abide  the  pelting  of  the  pitiless  storm  ;"  and 
I  determined  to  finish  my  wretched  existence,  before  the  dawning  of 
another  morning.  This  wras  indeed  a  night  of  horror  ;  but,  in  the  mo- 
ment of  executing  my  fatal,  my  God-dishonouring  purpose,  the  image 
of  my  Eliza,  irradiating  the  prison  walls,  seemed  to  stan  d  before  me. 
She  appeared  as  if  commissioned  by  Heaven  to  soothe  my  tortured  spi- 
rit. I  prostrated  myself  before  the  perhaps  imaginary  vision,  and,  for 
the  first  moment  since  I  had  occupied  this  dreary  abode,  my  heart  soft- 
ened, and  a  shower  of  tears  came  to  my  relief  ;  yea,  and  I  was  relieved. 
My  soul  became  calm,  and,  although  every  hope  from  this  world  was 
extinct  in  my  bosom,  yet  I  believed  I  should  be  better  able  to  accommo- 
date, myself,  to  whatever  sufferings  the  Almighty  might  think  proper  to 
inflict.  I  passed  the  remainder  of  the  night  in  endeavouring  to  fortify 
my  mind  ;  a  pleasing  melancholy  took  possession  of  my  spirit.  I  drew 
consolation  from  remembering,  the  time  of  suffering  was  not  long ;  that 
there  was  a  rest,  a  life  of  uninterrupted  felicity,  beyond  the  grave  ;  that 
of  this  rest,  this  life,  no  power  on  earth  could  deprive  me  ;  and  that  I 
ought  therefore  quietly  to  wait,  and  patiently  to  hope,  for  the  salvation 
of  my  God.  Thus,  although  my  night  had  been  sleepless,  my  mind 
became  so  calm,  and  my  spirit  so  greatly  refreshed,  that  when  the  keep- 
er opened  the  door  in  the  morning,  to  inform  me,  that  in  three  hours  he 
should  lodge  me  in  Newgate,  I  answered  with  unaffected  composure : 
I  am  ready,  sir. 

In  less  than  an  hour,  however,  I  had  a  new  source  of  inquietude.  My 
brother,  William  Neale,  having  received  a  hint  of  the  arrest,  had  search- 
ed from  place  to  place,  until  at  length  finding  me,  with  tears  of  sympathy 
he  reproached  me,  even  in  the  presence  of  the  woman,  for  not  imme- 
diately summoning  him  to  my  relief.  This  female  turnkey,  obser- 
ving the  appearance  of  my  brother,  and  the  feeling  manner,  in  which  he 
nddressed  me,  began  10  hope,  notwithstanding  what  she  had  termed  my 


LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  115 

obstinacy,  that  they  should  reap  some  benefit  from  me  after  all.  "Why," 
said  William,  "  did  you  not  send  for  me  immediately  upon  your  enter- 
ing this  house  ?"  "  Ay,  dear  sir,  so  I  said  :  why,  dear  sir,  said  T,  can- 
not you  send  for  some  of  your  friends  ?  for  I  know'd  as  how,  the  gentle- 
man had  many  friends,- and  my  husband  would  have  gone  himself  to 
any  part  of  the  town,  with  all  his  soul.  No  one  can  ever  say,  that  we 
were  backward,  in  doing  every  thing  in  our  power  to  serve  and  oblige 
every  gentleman,  that  ever  came  into  our  house  :  and,  though  T  say  it, 
that  should  not  say  it,  I  believe  there  is  not  a  house,  in  our  way,  in  Lon- 
don, that  has  ever  had  more  good  people  in  it,  as  a  body  may  say,  than 
ours  ;  and,  says  I,  Lord,  sir,  says  I,  you  need  not  for  to  make  yourself 
uneasy ;  it  is  no  crime,  says  I,  to  be  in  difficulty,  or  the  like  of  that;  the 
best  people  in  the  world,  says  I,  are  in  the  greatest  difficulties,  says  I;  I 
am  sure,  I  have  had  my  share  of  troubles  and  difficulties  in  this  world, 
says  I;  but  I  had  better,  says  I,  have  them  here,  than  in  a  worse  place : 
I  hope,  I  shall  atone  for  all  my  sins  here."  Thus  did  this  creature's 
tongue  run,  and  would  have  continued  so  to  do,  had  not  my  brother 
asked,  if  I  had  breakfasted  ?  "  Ay,  sir,  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  some- 
thing of  that.  The  poor  gentleman  has  not  seemed  to  care  any  thing 
about  eating,  or  drinking  :  for  my  part,  I  was  frightened,  in  the  dread 
of  the  poor  gentleman's  dying  in  the  house  ;  I  would  have  urged  him 
over  and  over  again  :  but  said  I,  may  be  he  will  think  as  how,  that  I 
mean  my  own  interest,  and  so  I  did  not  care  to  say  much  about  it  ; 
but,  sir,  the  poor  gentleman  can't  think  you  have  any  interest."  "  Get 
breakfast, ma'am."  "Tea  or  coffee,  gentlemen  ?"  "  Both,  ma'am,  and, 
do  you  hear,  let  us  have  a  private  room."  "  Yes,  sir."  When  left 
alone,  my  friend,  and  brother,  again  reproached  me  for  delaying  my 
communications  to  him.  I  frankly  told  him,  that  I  was  so  far  from  be- 
ing disposed  to  solicit  his  aid,  that  I  seriously  regretted  he  had  discover- 
ed me  ;  that  I  had  no  wish  to  involve  my  friends  in  my  difficulties;  that 
I  would  much  rather  continue  a  prisoner,  for  the  remainder  of  my  life, 
than  incur  obligations,  which  I  had  no  prospect  of  discharging.  "  Pho, 
pho,"  said  he,  "  this  is  idle  talk.  You  cannot  believe,  you  would  be 
the  only  sufferer  from  your  continuing  in  durance."  But  I  should  not 
suffer  long.  "  You  know  not  how  long,  however  ;  drop  the  subject, 
here  is  breakfast ;  sit  you  down,  and  let  us  breakfast  together  ; 
we  will  resume  our  subject  by  and  by."  Yes,  William,  we  will 
resume  our  subject,  by  and  by  ;  but  suffer  me  to  observe,  you 
shall  not  come  under  bonds  on  my  account,  neither  shall  you  dis- 
charge my  debts  ;  consent  to  this  stipulation,  or  I  touch  no  break- 


110  UI'E  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

fast.  "  Pshaw,  pshaw,  how  whimsical ;  but  eat  your  breakfast,  man  :  S 
promise,!  will  do  neither."  We  then  breakfasted  in  peace,  and  I  derived 
a  mournful  kind  of  pleasure,  from  the  assurance,  that  I  should  not  in- 
volve the  brother  of  my  Eliza  in  my  ruin.  But,  how  great  was  my  as- 
tonishment, when  he  ordered  in  the  officer,  who  was  also  master  of  the 
house,  when,  after  demanding  and  discharging  his  bill,  he  produced  a 
receipt  in  full  from  my  creditor,  and  a  complete  discharge  for  me. 
Thus  was  I  liberated  from  the  fangs  of  these  harpies,  and  I  accompa- 
nied this  commiserating  brother  to  his  hospitable  mansion,  where  he 
related  to  me  the  means,  by  which  he  had  discovered  me. 

Quitting  this  noble-minded  friend,  I.  hastened  home  to  my  suffering 
mother,  who  was  in  agonies  on  my  account  ;  ignorant  where  I  was,  or 
what  was  my  situation,  her  apprehensions  were  of  the  most  fearful  kind. 
We  mingled  our  tears,  while  she  most  affectionately  endeavoured  to 
soothe  me,  and  to  bind  up  my  broken  heart  ;  but  my  only  remaining 
hope  was,  that,  in  this  distempered  state,  I  had  not  long  to  suffer.  But, 
alas  !  here  also  I  was  deceived  ;  long,  very  long  have  I  continued, 
and  with  heart-felt  sorrow,  to  tread  this  thorny  maze.  The  brothers 
of  my  departed  angel  combined  to  help  me  forward  ;  many  plans  were 
proposed  for  me  ;  a  sum  of  money  was  hired  to  place  me,  as  a  partner, 
in  a  mercantile  house,  and  my  brothers  were  my  bondsmen  !  I  detest- 
ed the  thought  of  new  prospects  from  such  a  world  as  this,  but,  to  my 
beloved  William,  I  was  largely  in  debt  ;  he  had  a  growing  family, 
and  both  gratitude,  as  well  as  justice,  demanded  I  should  make  every 
effort  for  his  remuneration.  Thus  I  again  became  a  melancholy  man 
of  business.  It  was  supposed  the  road,  not  only  to  competency,  but  to 
affluence,  was  open  before  me,  and  I  was  pronounced  in  flourishing 
circumstances.  It  was,  for  those  who  loved  me,  a  pleasing  dream  ; 
but  soon  the  golden  vision  vanished,  and  I  awoke  to  the  certainty  of 
its  being  no  more  than  a  dream. 

Again  I  returned  to  my  lonely  dwelling  ;  pleased  with  the  thought, 
that  my  solitude  would  no  more  be  interrupted  ;  again  I  detested  the 
world,  and  all  which  it  could  bestow.  Thus  a  few  more  melancholy 
months  rolled  mournfully  away,  and  I  expected  to  finish  my  days  in 
the  retirement,  to  which  I  was  devoted.  One  consideration,  howrever, 
still  pressed  heavily  upon  my  mind.  The  very  considerable  sums,  for 
which  I  was  indebted  to  my  generous  brother,  was,  to  me,  a  mighty 
burden  ;  and  this  beloved  brother,  availing  himself  of  my  anxiety  on 
this  account,  once  more  set  me  afloat.  Many  were  the  efforts,  to  which 
I  consented  :  great  were  my  mental  sacrifices.  But  one  expedient  re- 


LIKE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  117 

mained ;  it  was  a  mournful  expedient.  I  will  not  delineate.  I  pause  ; 
I  throw  a  veil  over  many  revolving  months  ;  let  it  suffice  to  say,  my 
purpose  was  gained,  my  debts  were  paid,  my  pecuniary  circumstances 
easy  ;  but  this  was  all.  How  mysterious  are  the  ways  of  heaven  ! 
how  many  torturing  scenes  I  have  passed  through  !  But,  blessed  be 
God,  I  have  passed  through  them.  Thanks  be  to  the  Father  of  mer- 
cies, they  can  no  more  be  reiterated  :  My  newly  acquired  competency 
possessed  no  charms  for  me  ;  I  derived  no  satisfaction  from  any  thing 
around  me.  In  fact,  I  had  nothing  in  prospect,  and  hope  seemed  to 
have  expired  in  my  bosom. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  bereaved  man,  quitting  his  native  shores,  embarks  for  America  : 
indulging  the  fond  hope  of  sequestering  himself  in  the  solitude,  for 
which  he  sighed.     But,  contrary  to  his  expectations,  a  series  of  cir- 
cumstances combine  to  produce  him  a  Promulgator  of  the  Gospel  of 
God,  our  Saviour. 

Death's  sable  pall  o'er  all  my  pleasures  thrown, 
My  native  isle  to  me  a  desert  grown  ; 
Sad  and  forlorn,  to  the  new  world  I  fled, 
Amid  its  wilds  to  shield  my  widowed  head. 

TTAVING,  as  has  been  described,  laid  the  companion  of  my  youth, 
the  wife  of  my  bosom,  in  the  grave  ;  my  spirit  still  hovered  round 
her  tomb.  It  has  been  seen,  that  my  life  seemed  devoted  to  misery  ; 
that  I  wept  at  all  times,  except  when  I  turnfrl  my  attention  to  that 
bright  world,  upon  which,  I  imagined,  I  was  verging  ;  that  I  wished 
the  act  of  putting  a  period  to  a  weary  life  had  ranked  among  the  Chris- 
tian virtues  ;  that  I  never  more  passionately  longed  for  any  good,  than 
for  the  period,  which  was  to  put  an  end  to  my  existence  ;  that  I  had 
but  few  acquaintance,  that  I  wished  not  to  form  new  connexions  ;  that 
I  was  sick  of  the  world,  and  all  which  it  could  bestow  ;  that  the  retire- 
ment of  my  lonely  dwelling  was  most  acceptable  to  me  ;  that  I  abhorred 
the  thought  of  expecting  any  thing  like  happiness  in  this  world  ;  and, 
that  I  thus  passed  weeks  and  months,  verily  believing,  that  I  should 
thus  finish  days,  which,  I  cherished  a  soothing  hope,  would,,  soon  be 
numbered. 

Through  those  sad  scenes  of  sorrow,  to  which  I  was  condemned,  I 
had  one  friend,  one  earthly  friend,  from  whom  I  derived  real"  consola- 
tion.    This  friend  was  Mr.  James  Reljy,  the  man  who  had  been  made 
o 


118  UFE  OF  REV.   JOHN   MURRAY. 

an  instrument,  in  the  hand  of  God,  of  leading  me  into  an  acquaintance 
with  the  truth,  as  it  is  in  Jesus.    This  kind  friend  often  visited  me  ;  and 
in  conversing  with  him,  I  found  my  heart  lightened  of  its  burden  ;  1 
could  better  bear  the  pitiless  storm,  that  beat  upon  me,  when  strength- 
ened by  the  example  of  this  son  of  sorrow  ;  we    frequently    conversed 
upon  the  things  of  the  kingdom,  and   Mr.    Relly,  observing  my   heart 
much  warmed  and  enlarged  by  these  subjects,  ur^ed  me  to  go  forth, 
and  make  mention  of  the  loving-kindness  of  God.     No,  no,  I  constant- 
ly replied,  it  is  not  my  design  again  to  step  forth  in  a  public  character. 
I  have  been  a  promulgator  of  falsehood.  "  And  why  not,"  he  would  in- 
terrupt, "  a  promulgator  of  truth  ?     Surely  you  owe  this  atonement  to 
the  God,  who  hath  irradiated   your  understanding  by  the  light  of  his 
countenance."      But  no  argument,  he  made  use  of,  was  sufficiently 
strong  to  excite  in  my  bosom  a  single  wish,  that  I  had  either  inclination 
or  capability,  for  a  character  so  arduous  ;  my  heart's  desire  was  to  pass, 
through   life,  unheard,  unseen,  unknown  to  all,  as  though  I  ne'er  had 
been.    I  had  an  aversion  to  society,  and,  since  I  could  not  be  permitted 
to  leave  the  world,  I  was  solicitous  to  retire  from  its  noise  and  its  non- 
sense ;  I  was  indeed  a  burden  to  myself,  and  no  advantage  to  any  body 
else ;  every  place,  every  thing  served  to  render  me  more  miserable,  for 
they  led  my  mind  to  the  contemplation  of  past  scenes,  of  scenes  never 
more  to  return.     Such  was  the  situation  of  my  mind,  when,  at  the  house 
of  one  of  Mr.  Kelly's  hearers,   I  accidentally  met  a  gentleman  from 
America.      I  listened  with  attention  to  his  account  of  the  country,  in 
which  he  had  so  long  resided  ;  I  was  charmed  with  his  description  of 
its  extent,  its  forests,  its  lakes,  its  rivers,  its  towns,  its  inhabitants,  the 
liberty  they  enjoyed,  and  the  peace  and  plenty,  which  they  possessed  : 
I  listened  to  every  thing  with  astonishment  ;  and   I   turned  toward  the 
new  world  my  most  ardent  wishes.     I  communicated  my  desire  to  visit 
America  to  my  mother,  to  my  brethren.     I  was  ridiculed  for  entertain- 
ing a  project  so  chimerical.    What,  cross  the  Atlantic  !  For  what  pur- 
pose ?   To  whom  would  I  go  ?   What  could  I  do  ?  What  object  could 
I  have  in   view  ?  I  was  unable  to    answer  any  of  these  questions ;   I 
had   not   a   single  acquaintance  in    America,   indeed  I  had  no  wish  to 
make  acquaintance  ;   I  had  nothing  in  prospect,  but  a  kind  of  negative 
happiness  ;   I  did  not  mean  to  commence  a  voyage  in  pursuit  of  bliss, 
but  to  avoid, if  possible,  a  part  of  my  misery. 

My  mind  for  a  considerable  time  laboured  with  my  purpose  ;  many 
difficulties  interposed  ;  I  would  infinitely  have  preferred  entering  that 
narrow  house,  which  is  appointed  for  all  living,  but  this  I  was  not  per- 


LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  119 

mitted  to  do ;  and  1  conceived,  to  quit  England,  and  to  retire  to  Amer- 
ica, was  the  next  thing  to  be  desired.  Nights  and  days  of  deliberation 
at  length  convinced  my  judgment,  and  I  was  determined  to  depart  for 
the  new  world.  My  few  friends  urged  me  most  earnestly  to  let  them 
apply  to  those,  who  had  connexions  in  America,  for  letters  of  introduc- 
tion, or  recommendation.  No,  by  no  means,  this  would  most  effectually 
defeat  my  purpose  ;  I  would  rather  not  go,  than  go  thus.  My  object 
was  to  close  my  life  in  solitude,  in  the  most  complete  retirement  ;  and 
with  those  views  I  commenced  preparations  for  my  voyage.  I  visited 
the  brother  of  my  departed  wife,  and  I  beheld  both  him,  and  his  chil- 
dren, with  the  same  eyes  a  dying  person  would  have  beheld  them  ;  tears 
frequently  stole  down  my  face,  and  a  thousand  thoughts,  that  served  to 
harrow  up  my  soul,  crowded  upon  me,  I  was  determined  not  to  repeat 
this  scene,  and  I  bid  them  adieu  ;  could  I  have  done  this  upon  a  bed  of 
death,  how  much  happier  should  I  have  been  ! 

The  place  I  now  occupied,  to  which  I  had  recently  removed,  wa.- 
extremely  beautiful  ;  it  was  in  the  vicinity  of  London.  I  had  a  fine 
garden,  and  a  delightful  prospect ;  but  my  better  self  had  fled  this  globe, 
and  with  her  fled  my  soul's  calm  sunshine,  every  heart-felt  joy.  I  was, 
as  I  have  frequently  said,  extremely  wretched  ;  I  spake  to  the  master 
of  a  vessel,  bound  to  New- York  ;  I  agreed  for  my  passage,  my  heart 
trembled,  it  was  worse  than  death.  He  fixed  the  time  for  my  depar- 
ture ;  every  arrangement  was  made.  My  brother,  my  widowed  mo- 
ther, I  met  them  in  my  parlour  ;  it  was  torturing.  "  Sit  down,  my 
son,"  said  my  weeping  parent  ;  my  brother  appeared  a  silent  spectacle 
of  sorrow  :  "  I  know  you,  my  child,  too  well  to  expect  I  can  alter 
your  resolution  ;  it  is  now  too  late  to  beseech  you  to  reflect ;  I  know 
you  have  long  reflected,  and  I  am  astonished  to  find  you  still  deter- 
mined. You  have  a  charming  situation  ;  your  prospects  are  good  ; 
could  you  but  make  your  mind  easy,  you  might  still  be  happy  ;  why, 
then,  this  aversion  to  life  ?"  I  interrupted  her,  by  declaring,  that  the 
whole  world  would  not,  could  not  detain  me  longer  in  England  ;  yet  T 
passionately  loved  my  country,  and  my  few  remaining  friends  shared  the 
best  affections  of  my  heart.  This  voluntary  exile  was  worse  than 
death  ;  but  I  was  impelled  to  go,  and  go  I  must.  My  poor  mother 
threw  her  fond  arms  about  my  neck  :  "  Once  more,"  said  she,  "  you 
leave  me,  but  not  now,  as  before  ;  then  you  left  me  in  my  native  place, 
among  my  natural  connexions  ;  then  too,  I  had  hope  you  would  again 
be  restored  to  me — but  now — "  and  she  burst  into  tears  ;  my  heart 
was  agonized.  I  entreated  her  to  consider  me,  as  on  the  bed  of  death, 


120  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

nor  again  to  think  of  me,  as  of  a  living  son.  Be  thankful,  my  mother, 
be  thankful  it  is  no  worse  ;  be  thankful  I  have  not  fallen  a  victim  to  the 
despondency  of  my  spirit.  I  leave  you  with  your  children,  with  chil- 
dren kind, and  dutiful  ;  and,  what  is  better  than  all,  I  leave  you  in  the 
hands,  and  under  the  care  of  a  kind  God,  who  hath  said,  I  will  never 
leave  you,  nor  forsake  you.  "  But  shall  I  hear  from  you,  in y  son  ?" 
Do  not,  I  entreat  you,  think  of  me,  as  living  ;  I  go  to  bury  myself  in 
the  wilds  of  America  ;  no  one  shall  hear  from  me,  nor  of  me.  I  have 
done  with  the  world  ;  and,  prostrating  myself  in  the  presence  of  my 
mother  and  my  God,  with  streaming  eyes,  and  supplicating  hands, 
I  commended  my  soul,  and  all  who  were  connected  with  me,  or  allied 
to  me,  to  that  Being,  who  orders  all  things  according  to  his  own  good 
pleasure. 

I  left  my  mother  in  an  agony  of  affliction,  and  retired,  but  not  to 
rest.  My  baggage  had  been  sent  on  board  ship  in  the  morning, 
and,  accompanied  by  my  brother,  we  took  a  boat  and  passed  down  to 
GraveVEnd,  where  I  entered  on  board  the  vessel,  that  was  to  convey 
me  to  America,  which,  in  my  then  judgment,  was  tantamount  to  quit- 
ting the  world. 

The  vessel,  however,  did  not  sail  immediately ;  I  had  an  opportunity 
of  going  on  shore  again,  and  spending  some  time  at  GraveVEnd. 
Fond  of  being  alone,  I  ascended  a  lofty  eminence,  and  sat  me  down 
under  the  shade  of  a  wide  spreading  tree  ;  here  I  had  leisure,  and  in- 
clination for  reflection.  On  one  hand,  I  beheld  the  wide  ocean,  my 
path  to  the  new  world  ;  on  the  other,  the  Thames,  upon  the  silvery  sur- 
face of  which,  many  were  passing  to  London.  My  mind  rapidly  ran 
over  the  various  scenes  I  had  witnessed,  since  my  arrival  in  that  great 
city.  I  dwelt  upon  the  good  I  had  lost,  never  more  to  be  recovered. 
My  soul  sickened  at  the  recollection  of  my  heavy  bereavement,  of  the 
solitary  situation,  to  which  1  was  reduced.  I  was  going  from  a  world, 
h\  which  I  had  some  associates,  and  some  friends,  into  a  country  where 
every  individual  was  unknown  to  me  !  I  was  going  on  board  a  vessel, 
to  the  crew  of  which  I  was  an  utter  stranger — all  gloomy — truly  gloomy. 
One  idea,  however,  continued  my  abiding  consolation  ;  I  might  soon 
finish  my  course,  and  bid  an  eternal  adieu  to  sorrow  of  every  descrip- 
tion. Yet  I  trembled  at  what  was  before  me  ;  I  was  fearful  I  was 
wrong.  Just  at  this  period  the  wind  shifted,  the  signal  was  made  for 
sailing  ;  but  before  I  descended  the  eminence,  I  once  more  threw  my 
eyes  upon  the  surrounding  scenes.  I  felt  destitute,  and  forlorn  ;  tears 
gushed  in  my  eyes.  My  domestic  felicity,  my  social  connexions,  the 


LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MUR11AY.  121 

pleasure  I  had  derived  from  listening  to  the  testimony  of  truth,  these 
all  rushed  upon  my  recollection,  with  subduing  power  ;  I  prostrated 
myself  upon  the  ground,  with  streaming  ejyes  exclaiming  :  Oh,  thou 
dear  parent  earth,  thou  much  loved  native  soi.l,  why  not  open,  and  give 
me  a  quiet  resting  place  in  thy  bosom.  Oh  !  ithou  dear,  departed  friend 
of  my  soul,  hast  thou  no  power  to  loose  the^se  chains,  that  bind  me  to 
this  state  of  being.  Is  there  no  eye  to  pity,  no  hand  to  help  a  wretched 
outcast  ?  can  I  not  be  indulged  with  death  ?  But  death  comes  not  at 
call.  In  this  situation  I  continued,  bedewin  g  the  earth  with  my  tears, 
until  it  pleased  the  kind  God  to  speak  pe;ace  to  my  tortured  heart, 
and  I  seemed  to  hear  a  voice  calling  unto  m.e,  Be  of  good  cheer,  your 
God  is  with  tou,  He  will  never  leave  you,  iwr  forsake  you  ;  He  is  in 
the  wide'  waste,  as  in  the  fall  city.  Be  not  aft  aid,  when  thou  passest 
through  the  waters  ;  1  will  be  with  thee,  fear  no  evil  ;  the  friend  of  sin- 
ners will  be  with  thee,  and  make  Iky  way  plain  before  thee  ;  He  witt 
cause  the  desert  to  blossom,  as  the  rose.  7i7ie  young  lions  cry,  and  thy 
heavenly  Father  feed-elk  them.  Thou  art  nearer  and  dearer  to  thy 
heavenly  Father,  than  alt  the  inhabitants  of  the  deep,  than  all  the.  ten- 
ants of  the  forests.  Thus  did  the  spirit  of  grace  and  consolation  com- 
fort my  afflicted  heart,  so  that,  after  bidding  an  affectionate  adieu  to 
the  scenes  of  the  morning  and  meridian  of  my  days  ;  after  taking  what. 
I  believed  an  eternal  leave  of  my  nativ  e  soil,  of  my  friends,  and  rela- 
tives ;  after  dropping  many  tears  to  the  memory  of  each;  and,  last  of  all, 
to  the  ashes  of  ray  dearer  self;  with  an  aching  head,  a  pained  heart,  and 
eyes  swelled  by  weeping,  on  Saturday  evening,  July  twenty-first,  in  the 
year  of  our  Lord  one  thousand  seven  hundred  and  seventy,  I  hastened 
on  board  the  brig  "  Hand  in  Hand  ;' '  and,  upon  the  ensuing  morning, 
as  we  passed  round  B'eachy  Head,  I  beheld  the  white  cliffs  of  Albion. 
No  language  can  describe  my  sensations,  as  those  white  cliffs  receded 
from  my  view,  as  I  toojc  a  last  lo'0k  of  England  !  I  retired  to  my 
cabin,  covered  my  face,  and  wept  until  I  was  completely  exhausted. 
But  God  was  pleased  to  lift  up  the  light  of  his  countenance  upon  me  ; 
my  voyage  passed  more  pleasantly,,  than  I  had  calculated,  and  I  was 
the  happy  instrument  of  contributing  to  the  comfort  of  many  on  board. 
I  was  not  sick  upon  the  passage,  I  became  more  than  reconciled  to  my 
circumstances,  and  I  almost  dreaded  the  thought  of  reaching  our  des- 
tined port. 

I  did  not  anticipate  my  fate  upon  my  arrival  ;  I  had  determined 
upon  nothing,  and  yet  I  wa  3  not  distressed  ;  a  perfect  indifference 
pervaded  my  soul.  I  had  in  my  trimks  jnany  articles  of  clothing, 


122  LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

more  than  I  should  want ;  for  I  did  not  calculate  upon  being  many 
years  an  inhabitant  of  this  globe.  I  had  some  money,  I  had  my  Bible, 
and  a  very  large  collection  of  the  letters  of  my  Eliza,  in  which  I  took 
much  delight ;  and,  upon  the  whole,  I  fancied  myself  rather  rich,  than 
otherwise.  In  this  state  of  resignation,  indifference,  or  insensibility,  I 
passed  the  greater  part  of  the  voyage. 

As  we  drew  near  the  coast  of  America,  I  experienced  none  of  those 
delightful  sensations,  which  swelled  my  bosom, -a  few  years  before  on 
returning  to  England  from  Ireland;  neither  did  I  experiencetho.se 
terrifying  apprehensions,  for  which  there  was  such  abundant  reason,  on 
advancing  to  an  unknown  country,  without  patron,  or  friend.  My 
mind  was  calm  and  unruftled,  neither  elated  by  hope,  nor  depressed  by 
fear.  I  had  obtained  precisely  that  situation,  for  which  I  had  sup- 
plicated heaven,  when  entering  upon  this  untried  state  of  being,  hum- 
bly depending  upon  that  God,  who  was  in  every  place  the  same  un- 
changing friend  of  the  creature,  whom  he  had  made.  I  was,  as  it 
were,  between  two  worlds  ;  one  I  had  tried,  and,  finding  it  contained 
more  of  bitter,  than  of  sweet,  I  had  turned  from  it  with  disgust.  I 
advanced  toward  the  other,  without  high-raised  expectations,  without 
fearful  apprehensions.  I  was  pleased  with  the  wonders  of  my  God, 
as  I  beheld  them  in  the  great  deep  ;  I  was  amazed  at  the  variety  of  its 
inhabitants,  yet  how  small  a  part  could  I  trace.  I  was  astonished  at 
the  number  of  birds,  flitting  over  the  ocean  ;  and  I  thought,  if  provision 
was  made  for  them,  I  had  no  reason  for  fear.  On  a  brilliant  moon- 
light evening,  our  ship  struck  on  something,  which  threw  us  off'  our 
seats'  What  could  it  be  1  we  were  in  the  centre  of  the  Western  ocean. 
We  soon  discovered  it  was  a  sleeping  whale  ;  we  also  beheld  the  wa- 
ter-spout, so  often  described,  as  a  surprising  phenomenon.  Thus  was 
my  wondering  mind  beguiled  of  its  sorrows.  We  saw  a  number  of 
vessels  on  our  way,  some  passing  to  the  country  we  had  left ;  my  heart 
sighed,  as  they  pursued  their  course,  and  I  frequently,  and  audibly  ex- 
claimed, Dear  native  country,  never  more  to  be  seen  by  me  !  nor  was 
the  exclamation  unaccompanied  by  a  tear. 

We  were,  as  it  was  supposed,  within  three  days  sail  of  New- York, 
when  we  met'a  vessel,  bound  for  England.  Our  merchant  questioned 
the  captain,  respecting  the  state  of  public  affairs  in  America.  The 
Americans  had,  some  time  before,  entered  into  the  non-importation 
agreement,  and  our  merchant  was  anxious,  on  account  of  the  goods  he 
had  on  board.  The  captain  assured  him,  they  had  given  up  the  agree- 
ment in  Philadelphia,  but  that  they  zealously  adhered  to  it  in  New- 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  123 

York.  Our  captain,  therefore,  received  immediate  orders,  to  change 
the  course  of  the  vessel  for  Philadelphia  ;  but  when  we  had  got  near 
enough  to  this  harbour  to  take  a  pilot,  the  pilot  informed  us,  the  reverse 
of  the  information  we  had  received  was  the  truth  ;  upon  which  the 
merchant  determined  to  go  as  far  as  the  city,  there  obtain  a  certainty, 
and  if  so,  to  proceed  to  New- York,  with  all  possible  dispatch.  We 
were  a  considerable  time  passing  up  the  Delaware,  and,  upon  a  fine 
day,  while  we  lay  at  anchor,  the  merchant  proposed  going  on  shore,  for 
the  purpose  of  obtaining  corn  and  fruit. 

It  was  in  the  month  of  September,  when  we  arrived  in  the  Delaware  ; 
the  country,  upon  the  banks  of  this  fine  river,  exhibited  a  most  enchant- 
ing appearance,  especially  to  those,  who  had  been  for  many  weeks  out 
of  sight  of  land,  and  had  never  seen  those  shores  before.  As  we  drew 
near  the  land,  the  woods,  seeming  to  grow  out  of  the  water,  had  to  me  a 
very  uncommon  appearance  ;  but  every  thing,  in  this  country,  was  un- 
common. We  went  on  shore,  and  ascended  a  gentle  acclivity,  when, 
entering  into  a  small  log-house,  I  was  astonished  to  see  a  woman  pre- 
paring some  excellent  wild  ducks  for  dinner  ;  live  in  a  log-house,  and 
feed  upon  ducks !  We  passed  into  her  garden,  where,  amid  its  rich 
variety,  my  attention  was  arrested  by  a  large  peach-tree,  loaded  with 
the  best  fruit,  bending  to  the  earth  !  I  was  beyond  expression  charmed, 
and  delighted,  and  my  heart  bent  with  grateful  affection  to  the  univer- 
sal Parent,  for  giving  the  inhabitants  of  this  new  world  thus  liberally 
to  enjoy.  When  we  reached  Philadelphia,  I  was  amazed  to  behold  a 
city  of  such  magnitude,  in  a  country,  which  I  had  considered,  as  a  wil- 
derness. The  captain  supposed  it  a  disappointment  to  me,  that  we  had 
not  put  into  New- York,  as  that  was  the  place  of  my  destination  ;  I 
requested  him,  to  make  himself  easy,  as  it  was  a  matter  of  perfect  in- 
difference to  me  upon  what  part  of  the  country  I  landed  ;  and,  if  he 
could  procure  me  a  private  lodging,  I  would  go  on  shore  in  this  city. 
This  he  told  me  he  would  do,  but  this  he  found  he  could  not  do,  at  least 
in  the  circle  of  his  connexions.  He  then  proposed  my  going,  by  land, 
to  New- York.  This  also  I  was  willing  to  do,  if  he  would  tet  me  know1 
how.  He  would  send  and  take  me  a  place  ip  the  stage.  The  stage  had 
been  gone  some  time.  He  then  proposed  I  should  tarry  in  the  vessel., 
and  set  out  with  him  the  next  morning  for  New- York,  to  which 
arrangement  I  agreed.  The  other  passengers 'left  us  in  Philadelphia. 
The  water  was  smooth,  and  our  passage  pleasant,  until  we  were,  as  was 
iiipposed,  near  Sandy-Hook  ;  a  dense  fog  then  arose,  which  was  suffi- 
ciently tkick  to  prevent  our  seeing  the  end»  of  our  bowsprit.  A  'sloop 


124  LIFK  OF  REV-  JOHN    MURRAY. 

.shot  past  us,  and  we  inquired  how  far  we  were  from  Sandy-Hook  ? 
The  answer  was  seventy  miles,  but  we  understood  seven,  and  we  pressed 
on,  and  in  a  few  moments  were  in  the  midst  of  the  breakers  ;  the  vessel 
struck  upon  the  bar,  but  passed  over,  into  a  place  we  afterwards  learned 
was  called  Cranberry  Inlet.  The  fog  now  dispersed,  and  we  discovered 
we  were  nearly  on  shore  ;  our  anchors,  however,  saved  us;  but  we  were 
greatly  alarmed,  and  never  expected  to  get -off  again.  The  sloop,  with 
which  we  had  spoken,  entered  this  inlet  before  us,  and  was  light.  The 
captain  proposed  to  engage  this  sloop  to  receive  on  board  as  much  of 
our  cargo,  as  she  could  contain  ;  thus,  by  lightening  his  vessel,  to  give 
himself  the  only  probable  chance  of  getting  off.  This  was  effectuaed,  and 
night  coming  on,  the  captain,  with  many  apologies,  requested  me  to 
lodge  on  board  the  sloop,  inasmuch  as  there  were  many  valuable 
articles,  which  he  was  afraid  to  trust,  without  a  confidential  person.  To 
this  I  readily  consented,  and  taking  my  Bible,  and  my  purse,  I  went  on 
board  the  sloop.  The  plan  of  the  captain  was,  supposing  the  morn- 
ing should  present  no  prospect  of  getting  off,  to  deposit  the  remainder 
of  his  cargo  upon  the  beach  ;  but,  if  they  should  get  off,  we  were  im- 
mediately to  follow  ;  the  goods  were  to  be  replaced  ;  and  the  sloop 
dismissed.  I  went  not  to  bed,  and  when  the  morning  dawned,  just  at 
high  water,  the  wind  blowing  from  the  shore,  they  got  off,  making  a 
signal  for  us  to  follow  ;  and  with  all  possible  dispatch  we  prepared  to 
obey,  but  the  wind  instantly  shifting,  drove  us  back,  and  they  proceeded 
on  to  New-York,  leaving  us  in  the  bay. 

It  proved  upon  examination,  we  had  no  provisions  on  board  ;  we 
were,  therefore,  necessitated  to  lock  up  the  vessel,  and  go  on  shore, 
in  search  of  sustenance.  It  was  the  after  part  of  the  day  before  we  could 
effectuate  our  purpose,  when  I  went  with  the  boatmen  to  a  tavern,  and 
leaving  them  there,  pursued  a  solitary  walk  through  the  woods,  which 
seemed  to  surround  this  place.  My  naind  was  greatly  agitated  ;  I  was 
now  in  the  new  world  ;  and  in  just  such  a  part  of  this  new  world,  as  had 
appeared  so  desirable  in  prospect.  Here  I  was  as  much  alone,  as  I  could 
wish,  and  my  heart  exclaimed  :  O,  that  1  had,  in  this  wilderness,  the 
lodging  place  of  a  poor  way-faring  man  ;  some  cave,  some  grot,  some 
place  where  I  might  finish  my  days  in  calm  repose.  As  thus  I  passed 
along,  thus  contemplating,  thus  supplicating  ;  I  unexpectedly  reached 
a  small  log-house,  and  saw  a  girl  cleaning  a  fresh  fish  ;  1  requested  she 
would  sell  it  to  me.  "  No,  sir,  you  will  find  a  very  great  plenty  at  the 
next  house  ;  we  want  this."  The  next  house,  what  this  ?  pointing  to 
one  in- the  wood?.  "  O  no.  sir.  that  is  a  meeting-house."  A  meeting- 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  125 

house  here  in  these  woods?    I  was  exceedingly  surprised.    "You  must 
pass  the  meeting-house,  sir  ;  and  a  little  way  farther  on,  you  will  see  the 
other  house,  where  you  will   find  fish  enough."     I  went  forward,  I 
came  to  the  door  ;  there  was  indeed  a  large  pile  of  fish  of  various  sorts, 
and  at   a  little   distance  stood   a   tall  man,   rough  in  appearance  and 
evidently  advanced  in  years :  Pray,  sir,  will  you  have  the  goodness  to 
sell  me  one  of  those  fish?  "No,  sir."  That  is  strange,  when  you  have  so 
many,  to  refuse  me  a  single  fish  !    "  I  did  not  refuse  you  a  fistj,  sir  ;  you 
are  welcome  to  as  many  as  you  please,  but  I  do  not  sell  this  article  ;  I 
do  not  sell  fish,  sir,  T  have  them  for  taking  up,  and  you  may  obtain  them 
the  same  way."     I,  thanked  him :    "  But,"    said  he,    "  what  do  you 
want  of  those  fish  ]"  I  informed  him,  that  the  mariners,  who  belonged  to 
the  sloop  at  a  distance,  were  at  the  tavern,  and  would  be  glad,  if  1  could 
procure  them  something  for  supper.     "  Well,  sir,  I  will  send  rny  man 
over  with  the  fish  ;  but  you  can  tarry  here,   and  have  some  dressed  for 
yourself."  No,  sir,  it  is  proper  I  should  see  how  they  are  accommodated. 
"  Well,  sir,   you  shall  do  as  you  please  ;  but,  after  supper,  I  beg   you 
would  return,  and  take  a  bed  with  us,  you  will  be  better  pleased  here, 
than  at  a  tavern."     I  gratefully  thanked  him,  and  cheerfully   accepted 
his  offer.     I  was  astonished  to  see   so  much  genuine  politeness  and 
urbanity,  under  so  rough  a  form ;  but  my  astonishment  was  greatly  in- 
creased on  my  return.     His  room  was  prepared,  his  fire  bright,  and  his 
heart  open.     "  Come,"   said    he,  "  my   friend,    1  am  glad   you   have 
returned,  I  have  longed  to  see  you,   I  have  been  expecting  you  a  long 
time."     I  was  perfectly  amazed.     What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?     "I  must 
go  on  in  my  own  way,  I  am  a  poor  ignorant  man,  I  neither  know  how 
to  read,  nor  write  ;  1  was  born  in  these  woods,   and  rny  father  did  not 
think  proper  to  teach  me  my  letters.     I  worked, on  these  grounds,  until 
I  became  a  man,  when  1  went  coasting  voyages  from  hence  to  New- 
York.     I  was  then  desirous  of  becoming  a  husband,  but,  in  going  to 
New- York,  I  was  pressed  on  board  a  man  of  war,  and  I  was  taken,  in 
admiral  Warren's  ship  to  Cape- Breton.    I  never  drank  any  rum,  so  they 
saved  my  allowance  ;  but  I  would  not    bear  an  affront,  so  if  any  of  the 
officers  struck  me,  I  struck  them  again,  but  the    admiral  took  my  part, 
and  called  me  his  new-light  man.  When  we  reached  Louisbourg,  I  ran 
away,  and  travelled  barefooted  through  the  country,  and  almost  naked, 
to  New- York,   where  I  was   known,  and  -supplied  with   clothes  and 
money,  and  soon  returned  to  this  place,  when  I  found  my  girl  married  : 
this  rendered   me  very  unhappy,  but  I  recovered   my  tranquillity  and 
married  her  sister.     I  sat  down  to  work  ;  got  forward  vf*ry  fast  ;  con- 


126  LIFE    OF    REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

structed  a  saw-mill ;  possessed  myself  of  this  farm,  and  five  hundred 
acres  of  adjoining  land.  I  entered  into  navigation,  became  the  owner 
of  a  sloop,  and  have  got  together  a  large  estate.  I  am,  as  I  said,  una- 
ble either  to  write  or  read,  but  I  am  capable  of  reflection  ;  the  sacred 
scriptures  have  been  often  read  to  me,  from  which  I  gather,  that  there 
is  a  great  and  good  Being,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  all  we  enjoy. 
It  is  this  great,  and  good  Being,  who  hath  preserved,  and  protected  me, 
through  innumerable  dangers,  and,  as  He  had  given  me  a  house  of  my 
own,  I  conceived  I  could  not  do  less  than  to  open  it  to  the  stranger,  let 
him  be  who  he  would  ;  and  especially,  if  a  travelling  minister  passed  this 
way,  he  always  received  an  invitation  to  put  up  at  my  house,  and  hold 
his  meetings  here.  I  continued  this  practice  for  more  than  seven  years, 
and,  illiterate  as  I  was,  I  used  to  converse  with  them,  and  was  fond  of 
asking  them  questions.  They  pronounced  me  an  odd  mortal,  declaring 
themselves  at  a  loss  what  to  make  of  me  :  while  I  continued  to  affirm, 
that  I  had  but  one  hope ;  I  believed,  that  Jesus  Christ  suffered  death  for 
my  transgressions,  and  this  alone  was  sufficient  for  me.  At  length  my 
wife  grew  weary  of  having  meetings  held  in  her  house,  and  I  determin- 
ed to  build  a  house  for  the  worship  of  God.  I  had  no  children,  and 
I  knew  that  I  was  beholden  to  Almighty  God  for  every  thing,  which  I 
possessed  ;  and  it  seemed  right,  I  should  appropriate  a  part,  of  what  he 
had  bestowed,  for  His  service.  My  neighbours  offered  their  assistance. 
But  no,  said  I  ;  God  has  given  me  enough  to  do  his  work,  without 
3rour  aid,  and,  as  he  has  put  it  into  my  heart  to  do,  so  I  will  do.  And 
who,  it  was  asked,  will  be  your  preacher  ?  I  answered,  God  will  send 
me  a  preacher,  and  of  a  very  different  stamp  from  those,  who  hare 
heretofore  preached  in  my  house.  The  preachers,  we  have  heard,  are 
perpetually  contradicting  themselves  ;  but  that  God,  who  has  put  it  into 
my  heart  to  build  this  house,  will  send  one,  who  shall  deliver  unto  me 
his  own  truth  ;  who  shall  speak  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  his  salvation. 
When  the  house  was  finished,  I  received  an  application  from  the  Bap- 
tists ;  and  I  told  them,  if  they  could  make  it  appear,  that  God  Almighty 
was  a  Baptist,  the  building  should  be  theirs  at  once.  The  Quakers, 
and  Presbyterians,  received  similar  answers.  No,  said  I,  as  I  firmly 
believe,  that  all  mankind  are  equally  dear  to  Almighty  God,  they  shall 
all  be  equally  welcome  to  preach  in  this  house,  which  I  have  built.  My 
neighbours  assured  me,  I  never  should  see  a  preacher,  whose  sentiment* 
corresponded  with  my  own  :  but  my  uniform  reply  was,  that  I  assu- 
redly should.  I  engaged,  the  first  year,  with  a  man,  whom  I  greatly 
disliked  ;  we  parted,  and,  for  some  years,  we  have  had  no  stated  min- 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  127 

ister.  My  friends  often  ask  me,  "  Where  is  the  preacher,  of  whom 
you  spake  ?"  And  my  constant  reply  has  been,  He  will  by  and  by 
make  his  appearance.  The  moment  I  beheld  your  vessel  on  shore,  it 
seemed  as  if  a  voice  had  audibly  sounded  in  my  ear  :  There,  Potter, 
in  that  vessel,  cast  away  on  that  shore,  is  the  preacher,  you  have  been 
so  long  expecting.  I  heard  the  voice,  and  I  believed  the  report ;  and 
when  you  came  up  to  my  door,  and  asked  for  the  fish,  the  same  voice 
seemed  to  repeat  :  Potter,  this  is  the  man,  this  is  the  person,  whom  I 
have  sent  to  preach  in  your  house  !" 

I  was  astonished,  immeasurably  astonished  at  Mr.  Potter's  narrative ; 
but  yet  I  had  not  the  smallest  idea  it  could  ever  be  realized.  I  re- 
quested to  know,  what  he  could  discern  in  my  appearance,  which  could 
lead  him  to  mistake  me  for  a  preacher  ?  "  What,"  said  he,  "  could 
I  discern,  when  you  were  in  the  vessel,  that  could  induce  this  conclu- 
clusion  ?  No,  sir,  it  is  not  what  I  saw,  or  see,  but  what  I  feel,  which 
produces  iti  my  mind  a  full  conviction." 

Bat,  my  dear  sir,  you  are  deceived,  indeed  you  are  deceived;  I  nev- 
er shall  preach  in  this  place,  nor  any  where  else. 

"  Have  you  never  preached  1  can  you  say, you  ha  ve  never  preached  ?" 

I  cannot,  but  I  never  intend  to  preach  again. 

"  Has  not  God  lifted  up  the  light  of  his  countenance  upon  you  ? 
Has  he  not  shown  you  his  truth  ?" 

I  trust,  he  has. 

"  And  how  dare  you  hide  this  truth  ?  Do  men  light  a  candle  to 
put  it  under  a  bushel  ?  If  God  has  shown  you  his  salvation,  why 
should  you  not  show  it  to  your  fellow  men  ?  But  I  know,  that  you 
will ;  I  am  sure,  God  Almighty  has  sent  you  to  us  for  this  purpose  ;  I 
am  not  deceived,  I  am  sure  I  am  not  deceived." 

I  was  terrified,  as  the  man  thus  went  on  ;  and  I  began  to  fear,  that 
God,  who  orders  all  things  according  to  the  council  of  his  own  will, 
had  ordained,  that  thus  it  should  be,  and  my  heart  trembled  at  the  idea. 
I  endeavoured,  however,  to  banish  rny  own  fears,  and  to  silence  the 
warm-hearted  man,  by  observing,  that  I  was  in  the  place  of  a  super- 
cargo; that  property  to  a  large  amount  had  been  entrusted  to  my  care: 
and  that,  the  moment  the  wind  changed,  I  was  under  the  most  solemn 
obligations  to  depart. 

"  The  wind  will  never  change,  sir,  unti)  you  have  delivered  to  us. 
in  that  meeting-house,  a  message  from  God. 

Still  I  was  resolutely  determined  never  to  enter  any  pulpit,   as  a 


preacher  ;  yet,  being  rendered  truly    unhappy,   T  beggw  I  might  be 


ny  pi 
*<*M 


128  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

shown  to  my  bed.  He  requested  I  would  pray  with  them,  if  I  had 
no  objection.  I  asked  him,  how  he  could  suppose  I  had  any  objection 
to  praying  ?  The  Quakers,  he  said,  seldom  prayed  ;  and  there  were 
others,  who  visited  him,  who  were  not  in  the  habit  of  praying.  I  nev- 
er propose  prayer,  sir,  lest  it  should  not  meet  with  the  approbation  of 
those,  with  whom  I  sojourn  ;  but  I  am  always  pleased,  when  prayer  is 
proposed  to  me.  I  prayed,  and  my  heart  was  greatly  enlarged,  and 
softened.  Vv'hen  we  parted  for  the  night,  my  kind  host  solemnly  re- 
quested, that  I  would  think  of  what  he  had  said.  Alas  !  he  need 
not  to  have  made  this  request ;  it  was  impossible  to  banish  it  from 
my  mind.  When  I  entered  my  chamber,  and  shut  the  door,  I  burst 
into  tears  ;  I  would  have  given  the  world,  that  I  had  never  left  Eng- 
land. I  felt,  as  if  the  hand  of  God  was  in  the  events,  which  had 
brought  rne  to  this  place,  and  I  prayed  most  ardently,  that  God  would 
assist  and  direct  me  by  his  counsel.  I  presented  myself  before  Him. 
as  a  man  bowed  down  by  calamity  ;  a  melancholy  outcast,  driven  by- 
repeated  afflictions  of  body  and  of  mind  to  seek  refuge  in  private  life  ; 
to  seek  solitude  amid  the  wilds  of  America  :  Thou  knowest,  said  my 
oppressed  spirit,  thou  knowest,  O  Lord,  that,  if  it  had  pleased  thee,  I 
would  have  preferred  death,  as  the  safest,  and  most  sure  retreat  ;  but 
Thou  hast  not  seen  tit  to  indulge  my  wishes  in  this  respect.  In  thy 
providence,  thou  hast  brought  me  into  this  new  world  ;  thou  seest  how 
1  >m  oppressed  by  solicitations  to  speak  unto  the  people  the  words  ot 
life  ;  thou  knowest,  that  I  am  not  sufficient  for  these  things ;  thou  God 
o'  my  lathers,  thou  God  of  the  stranger,  look  with  pity  upon  the  poor, 
lonely  wanderer,  now  before  thee  :  O  thou,  that  sittest  in  the  heaven, 
a.id  rulest  in  the  earth,  and  who  assurest  us,  that  a  hair  of  our  head 
cannot  fall,  unnoticed  by  thee  ;  O  thou,  who  kindly  directest  us,  thy 
poor  dependent  creatures,  to  acknowledge  thee  in  all  their  ways,  and 
to  make  their  requests  known  unto  thee  in  every  time  of  affliction,  be- 
hold thy  poor  dependent,  supplicating  thee  for  thy  kind  direction  and 
protection  ;  if  thou  hast  indeed  put  it  into  the  heart  of  thy  servant  to 
demand  of  me,  the  meanest  and  weakest  of  all,  to  whom  thou  didst 
ever  give  power  to  believe  in  the  name,  of  thy  Son,  to  declare  unto  him. 
and  the  people  of  this  place,  the  gospel  of  thy  grace;  O  God  !  in  mercy 
prepare  me,  prepare  me  for  so  vast  an  undertaking,  and  let  thy  pres- 
ence bq  with  me  ;  strengthen  me,  O  Lord,  by  thy  mighty  spirit.  And  il' 
it  be  not  thy  pleasure  thus  to  employ  me, — for  thou,  O  God,  wilt  send. 
by  whom  thou  wilt  send, — graciously  manifest  thy  will,  that  so  I  ma\ 
not  bv  any  means  be  drawn  into  a  snare.  Thou  art  the  sinner's  friend. 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  12U 

thou  arf  the  only  friend  I  have.  To  thee,  O  thou  compassionate  Fa- 
ther of  my  spirit,  encouraged  by  thy  gracious  promises,  I  make  applica- 
tion. Pity,  O  pity  the  destitute  stranger  ;  leave  me  not,  I  most  earn- 
estly entreat  thee,  to  my  own  direction. 

Thus  did  I  pray,  thus  did  I  weep  through  the  greater  part  of  the 
Bight ;  dreading  more  than  death,  even  supposing  death  an  object   of 
dread,   the  thought  of  engaging,  as  a  public  character.     On  the  one 
hand,  I  discovered,  that  if  there  be   a  ruling  power,  a  superintending 
providence,  the  account,  given  by  the  extraordinary  man  under  whose 
roof  I  reposed,  evinced  its  operation  ;  that, if  the  heart  of  the  creature  be 
indeed  in  the  hand  of  the  Creator,  it  was  manifest,  that  God  had  dis- 
posed the  heart  of  this  man  to  view  me  as  His  messenger,  sent  for  the 
purpose  of  declaring  the  counsel  of  his  peace  to  his  creatures.     On  the 
other  hand,  I  recollected,  that  the  heart  is  deceitful,  above  all  things  ; 
that  the  devices  of  the  adversary  are  manifold ;  and  that,  had  it  been  the 
will  of  God,  that  I  should  have  become  a  promulgator  of  the  gospel  of 
his  grace,   he  would  have  qualified  me  for  an  object  of  such   infinite 
magnitude.     If  I  testified  of  Jesus  according  to  the  scriptures,  I  well 
knew  upon  what  I   must  calculate  :    the  clergy,  of  all  denominations, 
would  unite  to  oppose  me.  For  I  had  never  met  with  any  individual  of 
that  order,  either   in  the  Church  of  Rome,   or  elsewhere,   who    were 
believers  of  the   Gospel,  that  God  preached   unto   Abraham,   that,  in 
Christ  Jesus,  all   the  families  of  the  earth  should  be  blessed  ;  nor  did 
they,  as  far  as  I  had   known,  embrace  the  ministry   of  reconciliation, 
committed  unto  the  Apostles,  namely,  that   God  teas,  in  Christ,  recon- 
ciling the  world  unto  Himself,  not  imputing  unto  them  their  trespasses ; 
nor  did  they  acknowledge  the  restitution  of  all  things,  testified  by  all 
God's  holy  prophets  ever  since  the  world  began.     To  these  doctrines  I 
supposed  clergymen  in  this,  as  well  as  in  the  country  I  had  left,  united 
in  their  opposition  ;  and,  convinced  that  there  were  no  enemies  in  the 
world  more  powerful,  than  the  clergy,   I  trembled  at  the  thought  of 
stemming  the  full  tide  of  their  displeasure.    I  was  persuaded,  that  peo- 
ple in  general,  being  under  the  dominion  of  the  clergy,  would   hate 
where  they  hated,  and  report  what  they  reported.     Acquainted  in  some 
measure  with  human  nature,  and  with  divine  revelation,  I  was  certain, 
that,  if  I  appeared  in  the  character  of  a  real  disciple  of  Christ  Jesus  ;  if 
I  dared  to  declare  the  whole  truth  of  God, /all  manner   of  evil  would 
ne  said  of  me;  and,  although  it  might  be  falsely  said,  while  the  inventor 
of  the  slander  would  be  conscious  of  its  falsehood,  the  majority  of  those 
who  heard  would  yield  it  credit,  and  }  should   become  Hie   victim  of 
their  credulitv. 


ISO  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHW  MURRAY. 

I  knew  how  Mr.  Relly  had  suffered  in  England,  and  the  Apostle.* 
in  Judea  ;  and  being  a  believer  in  the  testimony  of  God,  I  was  assured, 
if  my  doctrines  were  the  same,  my  treatment  would  be  similar.  All 
this  rose  to  my  view,  and  the  prospect  was  tremendous.  Thus  I  pas- 
sed the  night,  and  the  ensuing  morning  witnessed  my  indisposition 
both  of  body,  and  mind.  My  good  friend  renewed  his  solicitations. 
"  Will  you,  sir,  speak  to  me,  and  to  my  neighbours,  of  the  things, 
which  belong  to  our  peace  ?"  Seeing  only  thick  woods,  the  tavern 
across  the  field  exempted,  I  requested  to  know  what  he  meant  by 
neighbours  ?  "  O  sir,  we  assemble  a  large  congregation,  whenever  the 
meeting-house  is  opened ;  indeed,  when  my  father  first  settled  here, 
he  was  obliged  to  go  twenty  miles  to  grind  a  bushel  of  corn,  but  there 
are  now  more  than  seven  hundred  inhabitants  within  that  distance.1' 
I  was  amazed  ;  indeed  every  thing  I  saw,  and  every  thing  I  heard, 
amazed  me  ;  nothing,  except  the  religion  of  the  people,  resembled 
what  I  had  left  behind. 

My  mind  continued  subjected  to  the  most  torturing  reflections.  J 
could  not  bring  myself  to  yield  to  the  entreaties  of  Mr.  Potter,  and  still 
I  urged  the  necessity  of  departing,  the  moment  the  wind  would  answer. 
Mr.  Potter  was  positive  the  wind  would  not  change,  until  I  had  spo- 
ken to  the  people.  Most  ardently  did  I  desire  to  escape  the  importu- 
nities of  this  good  man.  The  idea  of  a  crowd,  of  making  a  public  ex- 
hibition of  myself,  was,  to  my  desolate,  woe-worn  mind,  intolerable  ; 
and  the  suspense,  in  which  I  was  held,  was  perfectly  agonizing.  I 
could  not  forbear  acknowledging  an  uncommon  coincidence  of  circum- 
stances. The  hopes  and  fears  of  this  honest  man,  so  long  in  operation, 
yet  he  evinced  great  warmth  of  disposition,  and  was  evidently  tinctured 
with  enthusiasm  ;  but,  after  making  every  allowance  for  these  propen- 
sities, it  could  not  be  denied,  that  an  over-ruling  Power  seemed  to  ope- 
rate, in  an  unusual,  and  remarkable  manner.  I  could  not  forbear  look- 
ing back  upon  the  mistakes,  made  during  our  passage,  even  to  the 
coming  in  to  this  particular  irilet,  where  no  vessel,  of  the  size  of  the  brig 
n  Hand-iu-Hand,"  had  ever  before  entered  ;  every  circumstance  con- 
tributed to  bring  me  to  this  house.  Mr.  Potter's  address  on  seeing  me  ; 
his  assurance,  that  he  knew  I  was  on  board  the  vessel,  when  he  saw  her 
at  a  distance  :  all  these  considerations  pressed  with  powerful  conviction 
on  my  mind,  and  I  was  ready  to  say,  If  God  Almighty  has,  in  his 
providence,  so  ordered  events,  as  to  bring  me  into  this  country  for  the 
purpose  of  making  manifest  the  savour  of  his  name,  and  of  bringing 


,1 


many  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth  ;  though  I  would  infinitely  prefer 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHtf  MURRAY.  131 

death,  to  entering  into  a  character,  which  will  subject  me  to  what  is  in- 
finitely worse  than  death  ;  yet,  as  the  issues  of  life  and  death  are  not 
under  my  direction,  am  I  not  bound  to  submit  to  the  dispensations  of 
providence  ?  I  wished,  however,  to  be  convinced,  that  it  was  the  will 
of  God,  that  I  should  step  forth  in  a  character,  which  would  be  consid- 
ered as  obnoxious,  as  truly  detestable.  I  was  fully  convinced,  it  was 
not  by  the  will  of  the  flesh*  nor  by  the  will  of  the  world,  nor  by  the" 
will  of  the  god  of  this  world  ;  all  these  were  strongly  opposed  thereto. 
One  moment,  I  felt  my  resolution  give  way;  the  path,  pointed  out,  seem- 
ed to  brighten  upon  me  :  but  the  next,  the  difficulties,  from  within  and 
without,  obscured  the  prospect,  and  I  relapsed  into  a  firm  resolution  to 
shelter  myself,  in  solitude,  from  the  hopes,  and  fears,  and  the  various 
contentions  of  men. 

While  I  thus  balanced,  the  Sabbath  advanced.  I  had  ventured  to  im- 
plore the  God,  who  had  sometimes  condescended  to  indulge  individu- 
als with  tokens  of  his  approbation,  graciously  to  indulge  me,  upon  this 
importantoccasion  ;  and  that,  if  it  were  his  will,  that  1  should  obtain  the 
desire  of  my  soul,  by  passing  through  life  in  a  private  character.  If  it 
were  not  his  will,  that  I  should  engage  as  a  preacher  of  the  ministry  of 
reconciliation,  he  would  vouchsafe  to  grant  me  such  a  wind,  as  might 
bear  me  from  this  shore,  before  the  return  of  another  Sabbath.  I  de- 
termined to  take  the  changing  of  the  wind  for  an  answer  ;  and,  had  the 
wind  changed,  it  would  have  borne  on  its  wings  full  conviction,  be- 
cause it  would  have  corresponded  with  my  wishes.  But  the  wind 
changed  not,  and  Saturday  morning  arrived.  "  Well,"  said  my  anx- 
ious friend,  "  now  let  me  give  notice  to  my  neighbours."  No,  sir,  not 
yet ;  should  the  wind  change  by  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  I  must 
depart.  No  tongue  can  tell,  nor  heart  conceive,  how  much  I  suffered 
this  afternoon  ;  but  the  evening  came  on,  and  it  was  necessary  I  should 
determine;  and  at  last,  with  much  fear  and  trembling,  I  yielded  a  reluc- 
tant consent.  Mr.  Potter  then  immediately  dispatched  his  servants,  on 
horseback,  to  spread  the  intelligence  far  and  wide,  and  they  were  to 
continue  their  information,  until  ten  in  the  evening. 

I  had  no  rest  through  the  night.  What  should  I  say,  or  how  address 
the  people?  Yet  I  recollected  the  admonition  of  our  Lord  :  "  Take, 
no  thought,  what  you  shall  say  ;  it  shall  be  giren  you,  in  that  s<nnr 
hour,  what  you  shall  say."  Ay,  but  this  protrude  was  made  to  his  dis- 
ciples. Well,  by  this,  I  shall  know  if  I  am  a  disciple.  If  God,  in  his 
providence,  is  committing  to  me  a  dispensation  of  the  gospel,  He  will 
furnish  me  with  matter,  without  my  thought,  or  can*.  If  this  thing  be 


13C2  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

not  of  God,  He  will  desert  me,  and  this  shall  be  another  sign  ;  on  tin.- 
then,  I  rested.    Sunday  morning  succeeded  ;  my  host  was  in  transports. 
I  was — I  cannot  describe  how  I  was.    I  entered  the  house ;  it  was  neat 
and  convenient,  expressive  of  the  character  of  the    builder.       There 
were  no  pews  ;   the  pulpit  was  rather  in  the  Quaker  mode  ;   the  seatp 
were  constructed  with  backs  roomy,  and  even   elegant.      1  said  there 
were  no  pews  ;  there  was  one  large  square  pew,  just  before  the  pulpit:  in 
this  sat  the  venerable  man  and  his  family,  particular  friends,   and  visit- 
ing strangers.     In  this  pew  sat,  upon  this  occasion,  this  happy  man, 
and,  surely,  no  man,  upon  this  side  heaven,  was  ever  more  completely 
happy.     He  looked  up  to  the  pulpit  with  eyes  sparkling  with  pleasure  ; 
it  appeared  to  him,  as  the  fulfilment  of  a  promise  long  deferred  ;  and 
he  reflected,  with  abundant  consolation,  on  the  strong  faith,   which    he 
had  cherished,  while  his  associates  would  tauntingly  question,  "  Well, 
Potter,  where  is  this  minister,  who  is  to  be  sent  to  you  ?"     "  He  is 
coming  along,  in  God's  own  good  time."     "  And  do    you  still  believe 
any  such  preacher  will  visit  you  ?"     "  O  yes,  assuredly.1'     He  reflect- 
tjd  upon  all  this,  and  tears  of  transport  filled  his  eyes  ;  he  looked  round 
upon  the  people,  and  every  feature  seemed  to  say,  "  There,  what  think 
you  now  ?"     When  I  returned  to  his  house,  he  caught  me  in  his  arms, 
"  Now,  now,   I  am  willing  to  depart  ;  Oh,  my  God  !    I     w  11  praise 
thee  ;  thou  hast  granted  me  my  desire.     After  this  truth  I  have   been 
seeking,  but  I  have  never  found  it,  until  now  ;  I  knew,  that  God,  who 
put  it  into  my  heart  to  build  a  house  for  his  worship,  would  send   a 
servant  of  his  own  to  proclaim  his  own  gospel.     I   knew,   he   would  ; 
I  knew  the  time  was  come,  when  I  saw  the  vessel  grounded  ;  I  knew, 
you  were  the  man,  when  I  saw  you  approach  my  door,  and  my  heart 
leaped  for  joy."     Visitors  poured  into  the  house  ;  he  took  each  by  the 
hand.     "  This  is  the  happiest  day  of  my  life,"   said  the  transported 
man  :  "  There,  neighbours,  there  is  the  minister  God  promised  to  send 
me  ;  how  do  you  like  God's  minister  ?"   I  ran  from  the  company,  and 
prostrating  myself  before  the  throne  of  grace,  besought  my  God  to  take 
me,  and  do  with  me,  whatever    he  pleased.       I  am,  said  I,   I  am,  O 
Lord  God,  in  thine  hand,  as  clay  in   the  hand  of  the  potter.     If  thou, 
in  thy  providence,  hast  brought  me  into  this  new  world  to  make  known, 
unto  this  people,  the  grace  and  the  blessings  of  the  new  covenant ;  if 
thou  hast  thought  proper,  by  making  choice  of  so  weak  an  instrument, 
to  confound  the  wise  ;  if  thou  hast  been  pleased   to  show  to   a  babe, 
possessing  neither  wisdom  nor  prudence,  what  thou  hast  hid  from  the 
wise  and  prudent, — be  it  so,  O  Father,  for  so  it  seemeth  good  in  thy 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

sight.  But,  O  my  merciful  God  1  leave  me  not,  I  beseech  thee,  for  a 
single  moment  ;  for  without  thee,  I  can  do  nothing.  O,  make  thy 
strength  perfect  in  my  weakness,  that  the  world  may  see  that  thine  is 
the  power,  and  that,  therefore,  thine  ought  to  be  the  glory.  Thus  my 
heart  prayed,  while  supplicating  tears  bedewed  my  face. 

I  felt,  however,  relieved  and  tranquillized,  for  I  had  power  given  me 
to  trust  in  the  name  of  the  Lord ;  to  stay  upon  the  God  of  my  salvation. 
Immediately  upon  my  return  to  the  company,  my  boatmen  entered  the 
house  :  "  The  wind  is  fair,  sir."  Well,  then,  we  will  depart.  It  is  late 
in  the  afternoon,  but  no  matter,  I  will  embark  directly  ;  I  have  been 
determined  to  embrace  the  first  opportunity,  well  knowing  the  suspense 
the  capta  ,  must  be  in,  and  the  pain  attendant  thereon.  Accordingly, 
as  soon  as  matters  could  be  adjusted,  I  set  off;  but  not  till  my  old 
friend,  taking  me  by  the  hand,  said  :  "You  are  now  going  to  New- 
York  ;  I  am  afraid  you  will,  when  there,  forget  the  man,  to  whom 
your  Master  sent  you.  But  I  do  beseech  you,  come  back  to  me  again 
as  soon,  as  possible."  The  tears  gushed  into  his  eyes,  and,  regarding 
me  with  a  look,  indicative  of  the  strongest  affection,  he  threw  his  arms 
around  me,  repeating  his  importunities,  that  I  wrould  not  unnecessarily 
delay  my  return.  I  was  greatly  affected,  reiterating  the  strongest  assur- 
ances, that  I  would  conform  to  his  wishes.  Why  should  I  not?  said  I ; 
what  is  there  to  prevent  me  ?  I  do  not  know  an  individual  in  New- 
York  ;  no  one  knows  me  ;  what  should  induce  me  to  tarry  there  ?  "  Ah, 
my  friend,"  said  he,  "  you  will  find  many  in  New- York,  who  will  love 
and  admire  you,  and  they  will  wish  to  detain  you  in  that  city.  But 
you  have  promised  you  will  return,  and  I  am  sure  you  will  perform 
your  promise  ;  and  in  the  mean  time,  may  the  God  of  heaven  be  with 
you."  Unable  to  reply,  I  hurried  from  his  door  ;  and,  on  entering  the 
vessel,  I  found  the  good  old  man  had  generously  attended,  to  what 
had  made  no  part  of  my  care,  by  making  ample  provision,  both  for  me 
and  the  boatmen,  during  our  little  voyage. 

I  retired  to  the  cabin :  I  had  leisure  for  serious  reflections,  and  serious 
reflections  crowded  upon  me.  I  was  astonished,  I  was  lost  in  wonder,  in 
love,  and  in  praise  ;  I  saw,  as  evidently  as  I  could  see  any  object,  visi- 
bly exhibited  before  me,  that  the  good  hand  of  God  was  in  all  these 
things.  It  is,  I  spontaneously  exclaimed,  it  is  the  Lord's  doings  !  and 
it  is  marvellous  in  my  eyes.  It  appeared  to  me,  that  I  could  trace  the 
hand  of  God,  in  bringing  me,  through  a  long  chain  o't  events,  to  such  a 
place,  to  such  a  person,  so  evidently  prepared  for  my  reception  :  and, 
while  I  acknowledged  the  will  of  God,  manifested  respecting  my  pub- 


134  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

lie  character,  I  at  the  same  moment  distinguished  the  kindness  of  God, 
evinced  by  his  indulging  me  with  a  retirement  so  exactly  suited  to  my 
wishes.  The  house  was  neat,  the  situation  enchanting,  it  was  on  the 
margin  of  the  deep,  on  the  side  of  an  extensive  bay,  which  abounded 
with  fish  of  every  description,  and  a  great  variety  of  water  fowl.  On 
the  other  side  of  this  dwelling,  after  passing  over  a  few  fields,  (which 
at  that  time  stood  thick  with  corn,)  venerable  woods,  that  seemed  the 
coevals  of  time,  presented  a  *  scene  for  contemplation  fit,  towering  ma- 
jestic, and  filling  the  devotional  mind  with  a  religious  awe.*  I  reflect- 
ed, therefore,  with  augmenting  gratitude  to  my  heavenly  Father,  upon 
the  pressing  invitation,  he  had  put  it  into  the  heart  of  his  faithful  ser- 
vant to  give  me  ;  and  I  determined  to  hasten  back  to  this  delightful 
retreat,  where  nothing,  but  the  grandeur  of  simple  nature,  exhibited  in 
the  surrounding  objects,  and  the  genuine  operations  of  the  divine  spirit 
on  the  heart  of  the  hospitable  master,  awaited  my  approach. 

I  had  not  the  least  idea  of  tarrying  in  New-York  a  moment  longer, 
than  to  see  the  captain,  deliver  up  my  charge,  and  receive  my  baggage, 
and  I  resolved  to  return,  by  the  first  opportunity,  to  my  benevolent 
friend.  And  thus  did  I  make  up  my  mind  :  Well,  if  it  be  so,  I  am 
grateful  to  God,  that  the  business  is  thus  adjusted.  If  I  must  be  a  pro- 
mulgator  of  these  glad,  these  vast,  yet  obnoxious  tidings,  I  shall  how- 
ever be  sheltered  in  the  bosom  of  friendship,  in  the  bosom  of  retirement. 
I  will  employ  myself  on  the  grounds  of  my  friend,  thus  earning  my 
own  support,  and  health  will  be  a  concomitant ;  while  I  will  preach  *.he 
glad  tidings  of  salvation,  free  as  the  light  of  heaven.  The  business, 
thus  arranged,  I  became  reconciled  to  the  will  of  the  AlmigHty,  and 
I  commenced,  with  tolerable  composure,  another,  and  very  important 
stage  of  my  various  life. 


CHAPTER  VJ. 

Record  continued  from  the  September  of  1770  to  the  Winter  of  1774. 

u  Arm'd  with  the  sword  of  Jesse's  youthful  son, 
Engag'd  with  ardour  in  the  freedom  won 
By  Christ,  the  anointed  God  of  earth  and  Heaven, 
Dare  nobly,  Murray,  tell  the  boon  that's  given." 

Motto  by  a  Friend. 

TOEHOLD  me  now  entering  upon  a  new  stage  of  the  journey  of  life, 
•""^  a  professed  preacher  of  the  gospel.  Of  my  inability  for  an  under- 
taking so  vast,  I  retained  a  continued,  and  depressing  sense  :  but  I 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 


135 


determined  to  be  as  consistent,  and  as  useful,  as  possible ;  I  would  be 
an  assistant  to  my  new  friend  in  his  agricultural  and  fishing  employ- 
ments ;  and,  upon  every  returning  Sunday,  I  would  preach  to  him  the 
truth,  as  it  is  in  Jesus ;  (I  had  not  the  most  remote  idea  of  ever  preach- 
ing any  where,  but  in  the  house,  which  he  had  built ;)  and  thus  I  should 
questionless  be  indulged  with  the  retirement,  which  had  been  the  prime 
object  of  my  voyage.  Thus  consolatory  were  my  reflections  upon  my 
passage  to  New- York  ;  at  which  place  I  arrived  about  noon,  upon  the- 
ensuing  day.  I  inquired  for  the  captain,  delivered  up  my  charge,  took 
my  baggage  from  the  brig  Hand-in-Hand,  and  secured  a  lodging,  until 
I  could  obtain  a  passage  back  to  the  hospitable  mansion  I  had  left. 
But  the  day  had  not  closed  in,  before  a  number  of  persons  visited  me, 
earnestly  soliciting  me  to  speak  to  them  of  the  things  of  the  kingdom  ! 
I  was  immeasurably  astonished  ;  totally  a  stranger  in  the  city,  I  could 
scarcely  believe  I  was  not  in  a  dream.  The  boatmen,  however,  having 
given  an  account  of  me  on  their  arrival,  the  intelligence  was  wafted 
from  one  end  of  the  city  unto  the  other  ;  and  the  people,  being  anxious 
to  hear  something  new,  and  from  a  new  preacher,  became  extremely 
importunate.  I  could  not  deny,  that  I  had  preached  ;  but  I  gave  the 
solicitors  to  understand,  that  I  had  absolutely  engaged  to  return  by  the 
first  opportunity,  and  that,  of  course,  I  was  not  at  liberty  to  comply 
with  their  request.  They  promised  they  would  insure  me  a  speedy, 
and  eligible  conveyance,  if  I  would  consent  to  give  them  a  discourse  in 
the  Baptist  meeting-house;  and  it  became  impossible  to  resist  their 
persuasfons.  The  house  was  thronged,  and  the  hearers  so  well  satisfied, 
as  to  solicit,  most  earnestly,  my  continuance  among  them.  But  this  I 
was  not  disposed  to  do  ;  this  I  could  not  do  ;  my  word,  my  honour  was 
engaged  to  my  first  American  friend  ;  and,  when  duty  is  seconded  by 
inclination,  perseverance  becomes  a  matter  of  course.  Upwards  of  a 
week  elapsed,  before  the  earnestly  sought- for  passage  presented,  during 
which  period  I  frequently  preached,  and  to  crowded  houses.  I  was 
gratified  by  the  marked  attention  of  many  characters.  Novelty  is  rarely 
destitute  of  attraction.  Even  the  minister  extended  to  me  the  hand  of 
apparent  friendship ;  which  I  accounted  for  upon  a  supposition,  that  he 
was  ignorant  of  my  testimony.  I  made  use  of  the  same  scriptures,  which 
he  made  use  of ;  and  he  was  not  apprized,  that  I  yielded  them  unquali- 
fied credence.  I  had  no  doubt,  that,  so  soon  as  he  should  be  informed, 
that  I  believed  what  I  delivered,  he  would  condemn,  as  much  as  he  now 
appeared  to  approve.  Yet  some  few  there  were,  firm,  unchanging 
friends,  whose  attachment  to  me,  and  rfly  testimony,  has  to  this  moment 


136  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

continued  uu broken.  So  soon,  as  an  opportunity  to  return  presented, 
I  very  cheerfully  embraced  it ;  and  I  felt  my  heart  bound  with  pleasure, 
at  the  thought  of  that  meeting,  which,  a  few  days  before,  I  would  have 
died  to  avoid.  The  charming  retreat,  in  the  gift  of  my  friend,  was,  in 
my  estimation,  highly  preferable  to  New- York,  and  all  which  it  could 
bestow  :  and  I  longed  most  earnestly  to  quit  the  one,  and  return  to  the 
other.  A  number  of  friends  accompanied  me  to  the  vessel,  and  we 
parted,  with  expressions  of  regret.  A  single  day  produced  me  again  in 
the  abode  of  genuine,  Christian  friendship  ;  to  which  I  was  welcomed 
with  every  demonstration  of  heart-felt  joy. 

Here,  then,  I  considered  Iliad  found  a  permanent  home  ;  that  a  final 
period  was  at  length  put  to  my  wanderings  ;  and,  after  all  my  apprehen- 
sive dread,  from  being  drawn  into  the  public  character,  now,  that  I  had 
a  prospect  of  sustaining  this  public  character,  in  so  private  a  manner,  I 
was  not  only  reconciled,  but  tranquillized,  and  happy.  I  had  leisure 
to  retrospect  my  past  life,  and  I  was  filled  with  astonishment  when  I 
beheld  all  the  various  paths,  which  I  had  trod,  ultimately  leading  me 
to  a  uniform  contemplation  of  redeeming  love  ;  nor  could  I  forbear 
exclaiming :  Great  and  marvellous  are  thy  works,  Lord  God  Almighty  ! 
just  and  true  are  thy  ways,  O,  thou  King  of  saints  ! 

The  winter  how  approached,  and  with  hasty  strides ;  my  worthy 
friend  was  diligently  gathering  in  the  fruits  of  the  earth.  I  was  disposed 
to  aid  him,  to  the  utmost  of  my  abilities.  He  could  not  bear  the 
thought  of  my  labouring  in  the  field.  "  Why  need  you  ?  have  you  not 
enough  to  engage  your  attention,  in  the  business,  on  which  ^ou  are 
sent  ?  Believe  me  my  friend,  my  employment,  in  your  field,  will  not 
interrupt  my  reflections.  I  can  study  better  in  jthe  field,  than  in  the 
chamber ;  it  requires  but  little  study  to  deliver  simple,  plain,  gospel 
truth  ;  to  pervert  this  truth,  requires  a  vast  deal  of  worldly  wisdom. 
Let  me,  my  dear  sir,  do  as  I  please  ;  I  have  fixed  upon  a  plan,  with 
which  you  shall  be  acquainted,  when  the  labours  of  the  day  are  closed. 
In  the  evening,  when  the  cheerful  fire  blazed  upon  the  hearth,  and  we 
wore  seated  in  the  well-lighted  parlour  :  "  Come,"  said  the  good  man, 
**  no\v*for  your  plan."  I  think,  my  dear  sir,  said  I,  I  am  at  length 
convinced,  that  God  in  his  providence  has  thought  proper  to  appoint 
me,  however  unworthy,  to  the  ministry  of  the  new  testament ;  and  wrhile 
persuaded,  that  oar  common  Father  has  committed  a  dispensation  of  the 
go::pel  to  me,  and  that  a  woo  is  pronounced  against  me,  if  I  preach  it 
not,  it  will  be  impossible  I  should  remain  silent  :  but  knowing,  as 
I.  do,  something  of  the  nature  of  man,  and  of  the  situation  of  preachers 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  137 

in  general,  I  am,  for  myself,  determined  not  to  make  a  gain  of  godli- 
ness ;  I  will  make  no  provision  for  myself.  I  have  abundance  of 
cloathing  ;  and  as  to  food,  I  will  eat  of  whatever  is  set  before  me,  ask- 
ing no  questions,  either  for  the  sake  of  conscience,  or  appetite  ;  and  for 
my  drink,  nothing  is  so  salutary  for  me,  as  cold  water.  I  am  persuaded, 
I  shall  not  live  long  in  this  world  ;  at  least,  I  hope  I  shall  not.  I  am 
alone  in  the  world  ;  I  shall  want  but  little  here,  l  nor  want  that  little 
long.'  I  reject,  then,  with  my  whole  soul  I  reject,  the  li  beral  offer,  you 
so  recently  made  me,  of  a  fixed  stipend.  I  will  have  no  salary,  I  will 
have  no  collections,  I  will  preach  the  gospel,  freely.  I  will  work  in 
your  fields,  I  will  eat  at  your  table,  I  will  slake  my  thirst  at  the  limpid 
stream,  which  furnishes  your  family  ;  but  you  shall  make  no  change  in 
the  order  of  your  house,  on  my  account.  I  will  associate  with  your 
associates.  I  expect  to  meet  them,  at  the  table  of  my  great  Lord  and 
Master,  in  mansions  beyond  the  grave ;  and  shall  I  hesitate  to  meet 
them,  upon  equal  terms,  in  this  lower  world  ?  I  am  pleased  with  your 
situation  ;  with  your  house  of  worship  ;  with  your  neighbours  ;  with 
every  thing  I  am  pleased  ;  and  if  that  God,  who  brought  me  hither, 
will  graciously  vouchsafe  to  indulge  me  with  the  privilege  of  tarrying 
here,  until  I  am  liberated  from  this  body  of  sin  and  death,  I  shall  be 
still  better  pleased. 

The  good  old  gentleman  could  no  longer  suppress  his  feelings.  lie 
arose  from  his  seat,  caught  me  in  his  arms,  essayed  to  speak,  paused, 
and  at  length  exclaimed  :  "  O  my  God,  is  it  possible  ?  Why  such,  I 
have  thought,  ministers  of  Jesus  Christ  ought  to  be."  But,  my  friend, 
I  replied,  every  minister  of  Jesus  Christ  cannot  live,  as  I  can.  I  have 
no  family,  no  home,  no  want.  If  I  had  a  family,  I  should  be  worse 
than  an  infidel,  not  to  make  provision  for  my  household  ;  but  God,  by 
separating  me  from  my  beloved  companion,  and  from  my  cherub  boy, 
has  enabled  me  to  preach  the  gospel,  freely.  I  never  saw  any  man  so 
delighted,  and  especially  with  my  determination  to  continue  with  him. 
Dear,  kind-hearted  man,  both  he,  and  I,  then  believed,  that  death  only 
could  separate  us.*  In  a  place,  so  remote  from  the  world,  I  imagined 
I  should  enjoy,  uninterruptedly,  every  wish  of  my  heart ;  and  again  and 
again  I  felicitated  myself  in  the  prospect  of  finishing  my  weary  life  in  this 
sweet,  this  calm  retreat,  unincumbered  by  care, — conferring,  as  well  as 

*  If  the  reader  wishes  to  peruse  a  delineation  of  the  feelings  of  the  subject  of 
this  biography,  upon  visiting  this  delightful  retreat,  after  the  demise  of  its  phi- 
lanthropic owner,  with  a  sermon,  preached  upon  the  occasion,  he  may  see  both 
in  the  Eleventh  Letter,  Vol.  I.  of  the  "Letters  and  Sketches  of  Sermons,"  n- 
rently  published  by  the  now  departed  preacher.  Editor. 


138  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

receiving,  benefits, — nobly  independent, — possessing  all,  which  the 
treacherous  world  could  now  bestow.  Thus  I  went  on, — pleased,  and 
pleasing.  I  had  leisure  for  converse  with  myself,  with  ray  bible,  and 
my  God.  The  letters  of  my  Eliza  were  a  source  of  mournfully  pen- 
sive consolation, — they  were  multiplied, — and  I  had  carefully  preserv- 
ed them.  Many  a  time  have  I  shed  over  them  the  private,  the  mid- 
night tear  ;  and  reading  them  thus  late,  when  I  have  fallen  into  a  sweet 
slumber,  I  have  met  the  lovely  author  in  my  dreams,  and  our  meeting 
has  been  replete  with  consolation,  with  such  high  intercourse,  as  can 
only  be  realized  in  heaven.  Our  Sundays  were  indeed  blessed  holy- 
days  ;  people  began  to  throng  from  all  quarters  on  horseback  ;  some 
from  the  distance  of  twenty  miles.  I  was  at  first  pleased  with  this,  so 
was  my  patron  ;  but  multiplied  invitations  to  visit  other  places,  sadden- 
ed our  spirits.  I  dreaded  the  thought  of  departing  from  home,  and, 
in  the  fulness  of  my  heart,  I  determined  I  would  never  accede  to  any 
request,  which  should  bear  me  from  a  seclusion,  so  completely  com- 
mensurate with  my  wishes.  Alas  I  alas  !  how  little  do  we  know  of 
ourselves,  or  our  destination.  Solicitations,  earnest  solicitations,  poured 
in  from  the  Jersies,  from  Philadelphia,  and  from  New- York  ;  and  it 
became  impossible  to  withstand  their  repeated  and  imposing  energy. 

The  first  visit  I  made,  was  to  a  village  about  eight  miles  from  my 
late-found  home.  My  patron  accompanied  me,  and  we  were  joyfully  re- 
ceived, by  a  serious  and  respectable  family,  wMb  embraced,  with  devout 
hearts,  the  truth,  as  it  is  in  Jesus  ;  and  who  were  consequently  saved 
from  all  those  torturing  fears,  that  had  previously  harrowed  up  their 
spirits,  in  the  dread  expectation  of  those  everlasting  burnings,  which 
they  believed  awaited  themselves,  and  their  offspring.  In  this  village, 
I  one  morning  entered  a  house,  and  beheld  a  fond  mother  weeping 
over  an  infant,  who  lay  sweetly  sleeping  in  her  arms.  Sympathy  for 
the  sorrowing  mother  moistened  my  eye  ;  and,  supposing  that  her 
tears  flowed  from  some  domestic  distress,  or  pecuniary  embarrassment, 
I  endeavoured  to  console  her,  by  observing,  that  the  world  was  very 
wide,  and  that  God  was  an  all-sufficient  Father.  "  Alas  !  sir,"  she 
replied,  "  I  never,  in  the  whole  course  of  my  life,  experienced  a  mo- 
ment's anxiety  from  the  dread  of  my  children,  or  myself,  suffering  the 
want  either  of  food,  or  raiment.  No,  sir,  my  fears  are,  that  they  will 
be  sufferers,  through  the  wasteless  ages  of  eternity,  in  that  state  of 
torment,  from  whence  there  is  no  reprieve  ;  and  that  they  will  continu- 
ally execrate  their  parents,  as  the  wretched  instruments  of  bringing  them 
into  being.  I  have  eight  children,  sir  ;  and  can  I  be  so  arrogant,  as  to 


JJIPE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  139 

believe,  that  all  those  children  are  elected  to  everlasting  life  ?"  But,  my 
dear  lady,  you  have  reason  to  believe  they  will  be  saved,  whether  they 
be  elected  or  not,  because  Christ  Jesus  is  the  Saviour  of  all  men.  This 
did  not  satisfy  her.  I  took  up  the  bible,  which  lay  upon  her  desk,  and" 
the  first  scripture,  which  met  my  view,  was  the  127  Psalm.  I  glanced 
my  eye  upon  the  3d  verse  of  that  Psalm  :  "  Lo,  children  are  the  herit- 
age of  the  Lord,  and  the  fruit  of  the  womb  is  His  reward."  I  did  not 
recollect  this  passage ;  it  was  the  first  time  it  had  met  my  particular  ob- 
servation ;  but  it  has  ever  since  been  right  precious  to  my  soul.  I 
merely  opened  the  bible,  in  the  expectation  of  finding  something  to 
soothe  a  sorrowing  mother,  and  this  most  pertinent  passage  broke  upon 
me,  with  unequalled  splendor.  I  was  myself  astonished,  and  present- 
ing the  sacred  passage,  I  remarked  :  There,  madam,  God  has  sent  you, 
for  your  consolation,  this  divine  discovery.  You  have  been  unhappy, 
because  you  did  not  know,  that  your  children  were  God's  children,  and 
that  He  loved  them  as  well,  yea,  infinitely  better,  than  you  can  pretend 
to  love  them.  Nay,  look  at  the  passage,  you  see  your  children  are  the 
heritage  of  God,  they  are  his  reward  ;  will  He  give  His  heritage  to  His 
adversary  ?  or  will  He  suffer  him  to  seize  any  part  thereof,  if  He  has 
sufficient  power  to  prevent  it  1  Again  and  again,  the  fond  mother  pe- 
rused the  passage  ;  gradually  her  countenance  changed,  and  the  clouds 
dispersed  ;  a  flood  of  tears  burst  from  her  eyes ;  she  brightened  up,  and, 
pressing  her  babe  to  her  maternal  bosom,  rapturously  exclaimed  :  "  Bles- 
sed, blessed  God,  they  are' not  mine  ;  they  are  thine,  O  Almighty  Fath- 
er ;  and  thou  wilt  not  be  regardless  of  thine  own !"  I  never  saw  more 
joy  in  consequence  of  believing,  than  I  then  beheld.  Ten  years  after- 
wards, I  again  saw  this  parent,  and  asked  her,  what  she  thought  of  her 
children  ?  Blessed  be  God,  said  she,  they  are  God's  children  ;  and  I 
have  never  had  an  unhappy  moment  respecting  their  future  state,  since 
my  Redeemer  has  been  graciously  pleased  to  make  known  unto  me  his 
soul-satisfying  truth.  No,  sir,  my  spirit  is  not  now  a  sorrowing  spirit. 

Again  a  letter  was  handed  me  from  New- York,  earnestly  entreating 
me  to  pay  them  a  visit.  Arrangements  were  made  for  my  passage  in 
the  vessel,  by  which  I  received  the  solicitation.  To  a  summons  so 
pressing,  I  dared  not  turn  a  deaf  ear.  In  fact,  a  revolution  had  taken 
place  in  my  mind.  It  appeared  to  me,  that  I  was  highly  reprehensible 
in  thus  withdrawing  myself  from  the  tour  of  duty,  which  seemed  ap- 
pointed for  me  ;  and  I  determined  never  to  seek,  directly  or  indirectly, 
for  an  open  door,  and  never  again  to  refuse  entering  any  door,  which 
providence,  should  open.  It  is  true,  I  never  wished  to  receive  an  invi- 


140  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MUIIKAV. 

tation ;  but  1  was  aware,  that  the  direction  of  me  and  my  movements 
were  in  the  hands  of  infinite  wisdom  ;  and  promising  my  benevolent 
host,  that  I  wrould  return  as  soon  as  possible,  I  departed  for  New- York. 
My  reception  surpassed  my  expectations,  and  even  rny  wishes.  Many 
persons,  anxious  to  detain  me  in  their  city,  went  so  far,  as  to  hand  about 
a  subscription-paper,  for  the  purpose  of  building  for  me  a  house  of  pub- 
lic worship.  It  was  completely  filled  in  one  day,  when -application 
was  made  to  me  to  abide  with  them  continually.  I  urged,  my  abso- 
lute promise  given,  and  my  inclination,  prompting  my  return  to  Good 
Luck,  the  name  of  the  place  where  my  friend  Potter  dwelt.  They  werfe 
astonished  at  my  determination  to  reside  in  such  a  place,  when  the  city 
of  New- York  was  opening  its  arms  to  receive  me  ;  but,  on  my  repeat- 
ing the  circumstances,  attendant  upon  my  arrival  there,  they  seemed  dis- 
posed to  acquiesce,  and  to  acknowledge  the  good  hand  of  God  out- 
stretched for  my  direction.  The  Baptist  meeting-house  was  again 
open  to  me,  and  the  congregations  were  very  large  :  my  friends  multi- 
plied very  fast,  and  I  became  gradually  attached  to  this  city.  Yet  I 
ardently  desired  to  return  to  the  home  of  my  choice,  and,  after  spending 
a  few  weeks  in  New- York,  I  once  more  hailed  my  providential  resi- 
dence ;  numbers  of  warm-hearted  friends  accompanying  me,  as  before, 
even  to  the  vessel's  side,  where  they  offered  up  to  heaven  their  most 
fervent  prayers  in  my  behalf.  My  heart  was  greatly  affected,  I  was 
warmly  attached  to  many  in  New- York.  Tljie  family  of  Col.  Drake, 
and  many  others,  nbw  no  more,  were  very  dear  to  me.  I  reached  home 
in  good  health,  and  was  received  with  great  joy  ;  even  the  servants 
seemed  to  participate  the  benevolence  of  their  master.  In  fact,  having 
nothing  in  the  habitation  of  my  friend  to  render  me  uneasy,  my  mind 
became  more  tranquil,  than  it  had  been  for  many  years  ;  and,  at  peace  in 
my  own  breast,  I  consequently  contributed  to  the  happiness  of  all 
around  me.  Thus  I  continued  in  undisturbed  repose,  until  a  Baptist 
minister  from  New-Jersey,  believing  my  sentiments  precisely  in  unison 
with  his  own,  conceived  a  strong  affection  for  me.  He  solicited  me  to 
become  a  member  of  his  church,  that  I  might  obtain  a  licence  from  their 
association.  Of  course,  I  declined  his  friendly  offers  ;  for  I  well  knew, 
when  he  discovered  I  really  believed  the  gospel,  which  I  preached, 
uniting  with  his  brethren,  he  would  be  as  anxious  to  exclude  me  from 
his  synagogue,  as  he  now  was  to  receive  me.  He  pressed  me,  how- 
ever, to  visit  him,  which  I  did,  accompanied  by  my  patron,  wl;o,  to  his 
great  mortification,  was  necessitated  to  leave  me  there.  In  this  gentle- 
man's pulpit  I  preached :  I  lodged  in  his  house;  and  received  from  him 


I 

v  LIFE  OF  REV!  JOHN  MURRAY. 

every  mark  of  attention,  until  my  unbending  refusal  of  all  collections, 
and  the  partiality  of  his  friends,  visibly  diminished  his  regards.  I  had 
calculated  upon  this  change,  and  it  did  not  therefore  astonish  me.  He 
was,  however,  a  warm-hearted  man,  and  as  sincere,  as  men  in  general 
are.  In  this  place  I  was  introduced  to  many  worthy  characters,  who, 
as  a  part  of  the  election,  obtained  a  knowledge  of  the  truth,  as  it  is  in 
Jesus  ;  among  the  rest  was  a  justice  Pangburn,  a  venerable  old  gentle- 
man, who  had  for  many  years  been  considered  by  his  brethren,  as  an 
oracle.  This  gentleman  heard  me  ;  conversed  with  me  ;  and  discovered, 
that  my  testimony  was  not  in  unison  with  the  teaching,  to  which  he  had 
listened.  He  became  sedulously  intent  upon  detecting  my  errors,  and 
he  soon  discovered  I  was  wrong,  and  as  soon,  kindly  endeavoured  to 
set  me  right  ;  but,  as  there  was  no  other  way  of  effectuating  his  wishes, 
but  by  the  word  of  God, — for  I  refused  all  other  authority, — he  was  soon 
convinced,  upon  searching  the  sacred  writings  for  proofs  of  my  heresy, 
that  it  was  he  himself,  who  had  wandered  from  that  precious  truth  once 
delivered  to  the  saints.  Without  hesitation,  he  renounced  his  former 
views,  and  continued  ever  after  an  abje,  and  zealous  advocate  for  the 
truth,  preached  by  Abraham.  It  was  now  noised  abroad,  that  I  was  an 
erroneous  teacher.  The  clergyman,  who  was  so  warmly  attached  to 
me,  while  he  believed  me  a  Calvinistic  Baptist,  now  commenced  a  most 
inveterate  adversary  ;  and  his  opposition  published  more  extensively 
my  name,  and  peculiar  tenets.  Curiosity  was  excited,  and  I  became 
the  object  of  general  inquiry.  It  is  a  melancholy  truth,  that  esteem, 
and  consequent  friendship,  are  not  generally  so  operative  upon  the  hu- 
man mind,  as  rancour  and  enmity  :  my  experience  is  in  unison  with 
this  observation.  I  hastened  back  to  my  calm  retreat  ;  alas  !  it  was  no 
longer  my  peaceful  home, — for,  although  no  change  had  taken  place  in 
the  house  of  my  friend,  yet  the  influence  of  my  clerical  enemy  pursued 
me.  Opposition,  however,  begat  opposition  ;  and,  while  I  was  hated 
by  the  many,  I  was  loved  and  caressed  by  the  few.  Solicitations  to 
preach  were  multiplied  from  every  quarter,  and,  although  there  was  no 
abatement  in  the  attachment  of  my  patron,  yet  the  estrangement  of  some 
individuals, in  our  vicinity,  diminished  the  difficulty  of  accepting  invita- 
tions, and  I  was  induced  to  visit  a  few  warm-hearted  individuals,  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  my  implacable  foe.  Upon  my  arrival  there,  I  disco- 
vered a  want,  of  which  I  had  not  until  then  been  conscious  :  I  wanted 
a  horse.  A  single  hint  was  sufficient  ;  a  horse  \\TIS  immediately  pro- 
cured, and,  so  ardent  was  the  affection  of  inv  fidhorents,  that  I  could 


142  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

not  express  a  wish,  which  they  were  not  eager  to  gratify  ;  but  my  wish- 
es were  very  much  bounded,  and  my  wants  few  and  simple. 

An  invitation  from  Philadelphia  being  frequently,  and  earnestly  re- 
peated, I  repaired  to  that  city  ;  a  respectable  circle  of  friends  awaited 
me  there.  The  Baptist  minister  invited  me  to  his  house,  and  his  pulpit. 
He  questioned  me  in  private,  and,  in  the  course  of  our  conversation,  he 
frequently  repeated  :  "  Christ,  in  us,  the  hope  of  glory  "  1  ventured  to 
ask,  Pray,  sir,  what  do  you  understand  by  Christ,  in  us,the  hope  of  glo- 
ry ?  "  Why,  sir,  in  looking  into  my  heart,  I  find  something  in  it,  which 
I  had  not  some  years  ago."  Do  you,  sir,  call  this  something,  Christ  ? 
"  Undoubtedly."  But,  sir,  all  the  angels  of  God  worship  Christ  ;  all 
the  ends  of  the  earth  are  admonished  to  look  unto  Christ,  and  be  saved  : 
we  are  exhorted  to  trust  in  him  at  all  times;  and  to  believe,  that  there  is 
no  other  name  given  under  heaven,  among  men,  whereby  we  can  be 
saved.  Now,  my  good  sir,  suffer  me  to  ask,  would  it  be  safe  for  an- 
gels in  heaven,  or  men  upon  earth,  to  worship  that  something,you  have 
in  your  heart,  which  you  had  not  there  some  years  ago  ?  would  it  be 
safe  for  all  the  ends  of  the  earth,  or  any  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  world, 
to  look  to  that  something  for  salvation  1  could  I,  or  any  other  person, 
trust,  at  all  times,  to  that  something  ?  "  Then,  sir,  if  this  be  not  Christ, 
what  can  the  passage  I  have  cited  mean  ?"  Certainly,  sir,  this  cannot 
be  the  Christ,  Paul  preached.  The  Christ,  Paul  preached,  was  crucified  ; 
he  was  buried  ;  he  arose  ;  he  ascended  ;  and  the  heavens  must  contain 
him,  until  the  time  of  the  restitution  of  all  things.  "  But  how  then  is 
it,  that  this  Christ  can  be  in  us  the  hope  of  glory  ?"  Why,  sir,  the  Chris- 
tian has  no  other  hope  of  glory,  than  Jesus  Christ,  entered  within  the 
vail ;  and  this  Saviour  is,  in  his  heart,the  object  of  his  tnist,confde7ice, 
and  affection.  You  have,  sir,  as  I  understand,  a  beloved  wife  in  Europe  ; 
but,  although  the  Western  ocean  rolls  between  you,  yet  you  may  say, 
she  is  ever  in  your  heart,  and  no  one  would  be  at  a  loss  to  understand 
you  ;  but  if  you  were  to  tell  them,  your  conjugal  affection  was  your 
wife,  they  would  stare  at  you  :  and  yet  it  \*j6uld  be  as  proper  to  say, 
your  conjugal  affection  was  your  wife,  as  to  say  your  love  to  God,  or 
any  other  good,  and  proper  propensity,  was  your  Christ.  No,  my  dear 
sir,  these  are  not  that  Christ,  the  things  of  which,  the  Spirit  of  truth 
taketh,  and  showeththem  to  men,  as  the  matter  of  their  rejoicing.  The 
Christ,  of  whom  you  speak,  can  be  no  other  than  the  false  Christ;  that  is, 
something  which  is  called  Christ,  but  is  not  Christ.  The  Christ,  of 
whom  you  speak,  as  your  hope  of  glory,  was  never  seen  by  any  body, 
and  is  itself  nobody.  It  neither  suffered  for  your  sins,  nor  rose  for 


LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  143 

your  justification ;  and  it  is  therefore  most  unworthy  to  be  had  in  rever- 
ence. This  conversation,  as  may  be  supposed,  made  this  gentleman 
exceeding  angry  ;  and  I  was  not  a  little  surprised  to  hear  him,  although 
he  immediately  broke  up  the  conference,  insist  upon  my  coming  the 
ensuing  day  (Sunday),  according  to  promise,  to  preach  in  his  pulpit. 
The  intelligence  ran  through  the  city,  that  I  was  to  preach  in  the  Bap- 
tist meeting-house,  and  numbers  flocked  to  hear.  I  came,  I  entered 
the  parlour  of  the  Rev.  gentleman  ;  many  of  the  members  of  his  church 
were  present,  and  a  young  candidate  for  the  ministry.  The  gentleman, 
who  invited  me,  and  who  repeated  his  invitation  on  parting  with  me, 
arose,  and  throwing  upon  me  a  most  indignant  glance,  took  the  young 
gentleman  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  into  the  meeting-house,  which 
was  adjoining  to  his  dwelling,  leaving  me  standing  in  his  parlour.  I 
now  perceived,  why  he  had  insisted  upon  my  coming  to  preach  for  him. 
But  it  was  not  wonderful ;  I  had  spoken  contemptibly  of  his  Christ, 
and  he  took  rank  among  my  inveterate  foes  ;  yet  I  had,  among  his 
connexions,  a  few  friends,  who,  indignant  at  the  treatment  I  had  receiv- 
ed, redoubled  their  caresses.  There  was  at  this  time  a  small  company 
who  assembled  at  a  place,  known  by  the  name  of  Bachelor's-Hall ;  they 
were  unacquainted  with  the  truth  I  delivered  ;  yet,  willing  to  hear  for 
themselves,  they  invited  me  to  preach  for  them.  Halting  between  two 
opinions,  they  solicited  aid  from  a  minister  of  another  persuasion  ;  and 
they  requested  me  to  hear  him,  to  which  I  readily  consented.  The 
preacher  selected  his  text,  "  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  who  taketh  away 
the  sin  of  the  world"  He  commenced  his  comment :  "  My  friends,  I 
shall  undertake  to  prove,  that  Jesus  never  did,  nor  never  will  take  away 
the  sin  of  the  world."  I  was  astonished,  and  the  persons,  asking  my 
attendance,  were  abashed.  The  preacher  added  :  "  It  is  impossible 
Christ  can  have  taken  away  the  sin  of  the  world,  for  then  all  the  world 
must  be  saved."  This  w^s  unquestionable  ;  I  was  exceedingly  gratified, 
and  the  more,  as  this  sermon,  intended  for  my  confusion,  did  much  to 
establish  that  truth,  of  which,  by  the  grace  of  God,  I  was  a  promulgator. 
The  combined  efforts  of  the  clergy  in  Philadelphia  barred  against 
me  the  door  of  every  house  of  public  worship  in  the  city.  Bachelor's- 
Hall  was  in  Kensington.  But  at  Bachelor's- Hall  the  people  attended, 
and  a  few  were  enabled  to  believe  the  good  word  of  their  God.  There 
was  in  the  city,  a  minister  of  the  Seventh-day  Baptist  persuasion  ;  for 
a  season  he  appeared  attached  to  me,  but  soon  became  very  virulent  in 
his  opposition.  He  told  me,  he  passed  on  foot  nine  miles,  upon  the  re- 
turn of  every  Saturday,  to  preach.  I  asked  him,  how  many  his  con- 


144  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

gregation  contained  ?  "  About  an  hundred."  How  many  of  this 
hundred  do  you  suppose  are  elected  to  everlasting  life  ?  "I  cannot 
tell/'  Do  you  believe  fifty  are  elected  ?  "  Oh  no,  nor  twenty."  Ten 
perhaps  ?  "  There  may  be  ten."  Do  you  think  the  non-elect  can 
take  any  step  to  extricate  themselves  from  the  tremendous  situation,  in 
which  the  decrees  of  heaven  have  placed  them  ?  "  Oil  no,  they  might 
as  well  attempt  to  pull  the  stars  from  the  firmament  of  heaven."  And 
do  you  think  your  preaching  can  assist  them  ?  "  Certainly  not ;  every 
sermon  they  hear  will  sink  them  deeper,  and  deeper  in  damnation." 
And  se,  then,  you  walk  nine  miles  every  Saturday,  to  sink  ninety  per- 
sons out  of  a  hundred  deeper  and  deeper  in  never-ending  misery  ! 

Reports,  injurious  to  my  peace,  were  now  very  generally  circulated  ; 
and  although  I  expected  all  manner  of  evil  would  be  said  of  me  falsely, 
for  his  sake,  whose  servant  I  was,  yet  did  the  shafts  of  slander  possess 
a  deadly  power,  by  which  I  was  sorely  wounded.  Had  the  poisoned 
weapon  been  aimed  by  characters,  wicked  in  the  common  acceptation  of 
the  word,  it  would  have  fallen  harmless  ;  nay,  the  fire  of  their  indig- 
nation would  have  acted  as  a  purifier  of  my  name  ;  but  reports,  origin- 
ating from  those,  who  were  deemed  holy  and  reverend — alas  !  their 
bite  was  mortal.  Again  I  sighed  for  retirement,  again  I  hastened  to  the 
bosom  of  my  patron,  and  again  my  reception  Nvas  most  cordial.  Yet, 
although  so  much  evil  was  said  of  me,  many,  glancing  at  the  source, 
made  candid  deductions,  and  were  careful  to  proportion  their  acts  of 
kindness  to  the  magnitude  of  my  wrongs.  Invitations  met  me  upon 
the  road,  and,  wafted  upon  the  wings  of  fame,  I  could  enter  no  town, 
or  village,  which  my  name  had  not  reached  ;  in  which  I  did  not  re- 
ceive good,  and  evil  treatment.  The  clergy  and  their  connexions  were 
generally  inveterate  enemies  ;  while  those,  who  had  will  and  power  to 
act  tor  themselves,  and  chanced  to  be  favourably  impressed,  were  very 
warm  in  their  attachments.  Thus  my  friends  ^were  very  cordial,  and 
my  enemies  very  malignant ;  and,  as  my  enemies  were  generally  at  a 
distance,  and  my  friends  at  my  elbow,  but  for  officious  individuals, 
who  brought  me  intelligence  of  all  they  heard,  I  might  have  gone  on 
my  way  with  abundant  satisfaction.  At  Brunswick,  which  I  had 
been  earnestly  solicited  to  visit,  I  was  received  into  a  most  worthy  fam- 
ily. The  Rev.  Mr.  Dunham  was  of  the  Seventh-day  Baptist  persua- 
sion; a  man  of  real  integrity,  who, although  he  could  not  see,  as  I  saw, 
threw  open  the  doors  of  his  meeting-house  ;  conducted  me  into  his  pul- 
pit ;  and  discharged  toward  me,  in  every  particular,  the  duty  of  a  Chris- 
lian.  His  neighbour,  a  clergyman,  who  was  a  First-day  Baptist,  ex- 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  145 

hibited  a  complete  contrast  to  Mr.  Dunham.  He  invited  me,  it  is  true. 
to  his  house  ;  asked  me  to  lodge  there  ;  we  conversed  together,  prayed 
together,  he  appeared  very  kind,  and  much  pleased,  and  I  believed  him 
my  confirmed  friend,  until,  leaving  Brunswick,  I  called  upon  some, 
whose  deportment  to  me  was  the  reverse  of  what  it  had  heretofore  been. 
I  demanded  a  reason  ;  when  they  frankly  informed  me,  that  the  Rev. 

Mr. had  made   such   representations,  as  had  destroyed  all  the 

pleasure,  they  had  been  accustomed  to  derive  from  my  presence.  Thi? 
affected  me  beyond  expressiqn,  a  stranger  as  I  was  ;  and,  suffering  in 
the  dread  of  what  I  had  to  expect,  I  turned  from  the  door  of  those 
deceived  persons,  without  uttering  a  word.  I  quitted  their  habitations 
forever  ;  invidious  remarks  were  made  upon  my  silence  ;  but  of  these 
I  was  careless;  on  other  occasions  I  might  have  been  affected,  but  treach- 
ery from  a  man,  who  had  entertained  me  so  hospitably,  and  who  stood 
so  high  in  the  ranks  of  piety,  shocked  me  beyond  the  power  of  utterance. 
Upon  the  afternoon  of  this  day,  on  which  I  had  been  so  deeply  hurt, 
I  was  engaged  to  deliver  my  peaceful  message  in  the  puipit  of  Mr. 
Dunham,  in  the  vicinity  of  this  perfidious  man.  Some  time  had  elap- 
sed since  I  had  seen  him,  and  I  then  met  him  upon  the  road  ;  he  ad- 
vanced toward  me  with  an  extended  hand,  and  a  countenance  expres- 
sive of  Christian  affection  :  "  You  are  a  great  stranger,  sir."  Yes,  sir, 
I  am  a  stranger,  and  sojourner,  in  every  place,  as  all  my  fathers  were 
before  me.  "  Well,  how  have  you  been,  since  I  saw  you  ?"  Thanks 
be  to  God,  I  have  been  preserved,  and  owned,  and  blessed,  notwith- 
standing the  slanders  of  the  adversary,  and  his  agents.  He  saw  he  was 
detected,  and  he  determined  immediately  to  drop  the  mask,  "  Well,  I 
will  do  all  in  my  power  to  obstruct  your  progress,  in  every  place." 
Had  you,  sir,  made  this  declaration  at  an  earlier  period,  I  should 
at  least  have  believed  you  an  honest  man.  But  to  pass  yourself  upon 
me  as  my  friond,  my  sincere  friend,  while  you  were  aiming  at  me  a 
vital  stab  !  Oh  sir,  1  am  astonished  at  you.  "  And  I  am  more  aston- 
ished at  you  :  do  you  not  tremble,  when  you  flunk,  that  God  must 
have  a  quarrel  with  you  ?  and  that  all  His  ministers  in  America  hate 
you  ?"  Sir,  I  do  not  believe  my  Creator  is  a  quarrelsome  Being, 
neither  do  I  credit  the  information,  that  all  God's  ministers  hate  me  ;  a 
minister  of  God  is  incapable  of  hating  any  human  being.  "  But  are 
you  not  con  founded,  when  you  consider,  that  ydu  must  be  -right,  and  we 
icrong  :  or  you  wrong,  and  all  God's  ministers  right?  Sureiy,  it  is  more 
probable  we  should  bo  all  right,  and  you  wrong,  than  you  right,  avid  we 
«11  wrong,"  I  have  no  apprehensions  upon  this  head  ;  some  one  might 


146  LIFE    OF    REY.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

have  questioned,  in  the  days  of  Elijah,  when  he  was  opposed  by  eight, 
hundred  and  fifty  prophets  :  "  Do  you  not  tremble  to  see  all  these  holy, 
and  reverend  priests  on  one  side,  and  you  done  on  the  other  ?  either 
they  must  be  wrong,  and  you  right,  or  you  wrong,  and  they  right."  So 
in  Jerusalem,  our  divine  Master  might  have  been  asked  :  "  Are  you  not 
appalled  at  beholding  all  the  ministers  of  God,  all  the  rulers  of  the  peo- 
ple, in  opposition  ?  Either  they  must  be  wrong,  and  you  right,  or  you 
wrong,  and  they  right;  and  which,  pray,  is  the  most  probable  ?"  And 
the  people  might  have  been  asked  :  "  Have  any  of  our  rulers  believed 
on  him  ?  He  is  a  Devil,  and  mad,  why  hear  ye  him  ?"  "  I  am  as- 
tonished at  your  daring  blasphemy,  in  comparing  yourself  either  to 
Elijah,  or  Christ."  Why,  was  not  Elijah  a  man  of  like  passions  with 
us  ?  and  are  we  not  taught  to  put  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  ?  Who 
is  it  that  asks,  If  they  have  called  the  Master  of  the  house  Beelzebub  ? 
what  ought  the  servants  of  his  household  to  expect  ?  Elijah  is  a  mem- 
ber in  the  same  body  with  me  ;  but  the  Redeemer  is  still  nearer  ;  He  is 
my  head,  the  head  of  every  man ;  He  indulges  me  with  the  privilege  of 
denying  myself,  my  sinful  self,  and  he  allows  me  to  acknowledge  no 
other  than  his  blessed  self;  that,  thus  standing  in  his  name,  I  may  stand 
in  the  presence  of  the  Father,  the  Divinity,  with  exceeding  joy  ;  that, 
asking  in  the  name  of  his  immaculate  humanity,  I  may  be  sure  to  re- 
ceive, that  my  joy  may  be  full.  Nor  can  all  that  you,  nor  any  one 
else  can  say,  be  able  to  shake  me  from  this  my  strong  hold.  "  Ay, 
perhaps  you  may  be  mistaken — you  may  be  deceived."  If  I  am  de- 
ceived, I  am  deceived  ;  but  I  will  venture.  "  You  know  this  is  net 
the  privilege  of  all,  and  therefore  it  may  not  be  yours."  I  do  not  know* 
that  this  is  not  the  privilege  of  all ;  but,  if  it  be  of  any,  it  is  of  the  be- 
liever ;  and,  as  I  believe,  it  must  be  mine.  They  shall,  said  my  divine 
Master,  say  all  manner  of  evil  of  you,  falsely.  You,  sir,  have  been  in 
Brunswick,  fulfilling  this  scripture  ;  and  I  rejoice,  that  I  have  made  the 
discovery.  You,  can  rrever  deceive  me  again  ;  but,  as  I  am  not  nat- 
urally suspicious,  others  may  obtain  a  lease  of  my  good  opinion,  from 
which  they  will  never,  but  upon  the  strongest  conviction,  be  ejected. 
I  left  this  good  man  beyond  measure  enraged  ;  and,  no  doubt,  believing 
he  should  really  render  God  service,  by  doing  me  the  most  essential 
injury.  I  immediately  repaired  to  the  pulpit  of  my  friend  Dunham, 
where,  preaching  peace,  I  recovered  my  lost  serenity ;  and  it  gladdened 
my  heart  to  believe,  that  the  inveterate  enemy,  with  whom  I  had  parted 
upon  the  road,  was  included  in  the  redemption  it  was  my  business  to 
proclaim. 


1.IFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  147 

But  now  again,  my  heart  failed  me — again  I  sickened  at  the  pros- 
pect before  me,  and  my  whole  soul,  revolting  from  a  continuance  in 
public  life,  I  once  more  fled  to  my  beloved,  my  sequestered  home.  I 
sighed  ardently  for  my  emancipation.  Of  that  God,  who  was,  in  Christ, 
reconciling  the  world  unto  himself,  I  entertained  not  the  smallest  dread. 
But  my  coward  spirit  trembled  before  a  combination  of  religious  char- 
acters, headed  by  the  clergy,  and  armed  for  my  destruction.  Their  zeal 
was  manifested  by  their  industriously  propagating  a  variety  of  evil  re- 
ports, I  would  detail  them,  were  they  not  so  numerous.  And,  although 
all  manner  of  evil  had  not  yet  been  said  of  me,  enough  was  said  to  im- 
plant a  dread  of  some  overwhelming  termination.  Thus  my  aversion 
to  the  path,  into  which  I  had  been  pressed,  became  more  imposing.  I 
was  ready  to  say,  Lord,  send,  by  whom  thou  wilt  send,  and,  in  mercy, 
vouchsafe  to  grant  me  my  final  exit  from  those  surrounding  scenes, 
which  embosom  the  retirement  of  my  friend.  Often  have  I  wept,  as 
I  traversed  the  woods  and  groves  of  my  patron,  at  the  thought,  that  I 
could  not  be  indulged  with  the  felicity  of  passing  the  remainder  of  my 
days,  amid  those  sylvan  scenes  ;  especially  as  it  was  the  wish  of  the 
liberal  master,  that  I  should  so  do.  I  became  apprehensive,  that  my 
trials,  in  this  new  world,  would  surpass  those,  which  I  had  encountered 
in  the  old.  These  agonizing  anticipations  prostrated  me  before  the 
throne  of  the  Almighty,  imploring  his  protection  ;  and  from  this  high 
communication  with  my  Father  God,  my  griefs  have  been  assuaged  and 
my  wounded  spirit  healed.  Urged  by  a  strong  sense  of  duty,  I  again 
visited  Upper  Freehold,  to  which  place  I  had  been  repeatedly  summon- 
ed. My  acquaintance  there  was  large  and  respectable,  but  it  was  the 
residence  of  a  high-priest,  who  treated  me  roughly.  I  was  asked  to 
breakfast,  at  the  house  of  one  of  his  congregation,  without  the  most 
remote  hint,  that  I  was  to  meet  this  great  man  ;  but  I  was  hardly  seat- 
ed, when  he  was  observed  making  his  approaches  ;  and,  from  some 
expressions  of  surprise,  I  was  induced  to  believe  he  was  totally  unex- 
pected. I  was  astonished  to  see  so  many  assembled  ;  but  supposed, 
that  curiosity  to  see  the  strange  preacher,  of  as  strange  a  doctrine,  had 
drawn  them  together.  I  was,  however,  afterwards  assured,  that 
the  plan  had  been  previously  concerted.  Mr.  Tennant  enter- 
ed. We  were  introduced  to  each  other.  He  drew  a  chair  into 
the  midst  of  the  circle  ;  and,  commanding  into  his  countenance  as 
much  stern  severity,  as  he  could  collect,  he  commenced  his  stud- 
ied operations.  "  I  want  to  know,  sir,  by  what  authority  you 
presume  to  preach  in  this  place  ?"  Pray,  sir.  by  what  authority  do 


148  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

you  thus  presume  to  question  me  ?  "I  am,  sir,  placed  here,  Hy  Al- 
mighty God,  to  look  after  the  affairs  of  his  church,  and  people  ;  and  I 
have  a  right  to  insist  on  knowing  who,  and  what  you  are  ?"  Well,  sir, 
if  you  be  placed  here,  as  the  vicegerent  of  Heaven,  you  should  take 
care  how  you  conduct ;  you  have  a  great  charge,  and  your  responsibil- 
ity is  proportioned  to  its  magnitude.  But,  sir,  I  am  not  assuming  ;  I 
have  no  design  upon  your  people  ;  I  am  like  a  person  in  the  time  of 
harvest,  who  steps  into  the  field,  and  binds  up  some  sheaves,  making 
no  demand  upon  the  proprietor  of  the  grounds.  I  have  never  attempt- 
ed to  scatter  your  sheep,  T  have  not  even  plucked  a  lock  of  their  wool. 
I  do  not  wish  to  govern,  I  only  aim  at  being  a  help.  "  I  do  not  like 
you  a  bit  the  better  for  all  this  stuff.  I  insist  on  knowing,  whether  you 
came  in  at  the  door  ?"  I  wish  to  know,  sir,  what  door  you  mean  ? 
"  I  mean,  the  door  of  the  church  ;  all,  who  come  not  in  at  that  door, 
are  thieves  and  robbers."  But,  sir,  I  would  know,  what  church  you 
mean  ?  The  pope  declares,  there  is  no  true  church,  save  the  one  of 
which  he  is  the  head.  The  Episcopal  bishop  affirms,  there  is  no  true 
church,  but  that  of  which  the  king  is  the  head.  Do  you,  sir,  mean  ei- 
ther of  these  ?  "  No,  sir,  I  mean  the  true  church.  Did  you  come  in 
at  that  door  ?"  If,  sir,  you  do  not  tell  me,  what  you  mean  by  the  true 
church,  how  can  I  answer  you  respecting  the  door  ?  "  Sir,  I  will  have 
no  evasions.  Did  you,  or  did  you  not,  come  in  at  the  door  ?"  Jesus 
Christ  says  :  '  I  am  the  door  ;  by  me,  if  any  man  enter,  he  shall  be  sa- 
ved.* Do  you  mean  this  door,  sir  ?  "  No,  sir,  I  mean  the  door  of 
the  church."  Is  not  Jesus  Christ  the  door  of  the  church,  sir  ?  "  No, 
sir."  Well,  sir,  although  there  be  many  preachers,  who  have  not  en- 
tered at  this  door,  you  will  not,  I  trust,  esteem  a  preacher  the  less,  for 
having  the  privilege  to  go  in  and  out  at  this  door.  "  Sir,  I  have  noth- 
ing to  do  with  this  ;  I  wish  to  know,  whether  you  have  church  au- 
thority for  preaching  ?  that  ivs,  whether  you  came  properly  in  at  the 
door  ?"  Sir,  I  have  the  same  authority  for  preaching,  which  the  apos- 
tle Paul  had  ;  he  received  his  mission  by  the  will  of  God,  so  have 
I.  "  Ay,  sir,  give  us  the  same  miracles  Paul  wrought,  and  we  will 
believe  you."  If  the  power  of  working  miracles  were  necessary  to 
prove  a  right  to  preach  the  gospel,  perhaps  you,  sir,  would  be  also  at  a 
loss  to  prove  your  own  right, either  to  preach,  or  thus  to  question  a  fellow 
creature.  "  Sir,  you  are  a  deceitful,  hypocritical  man.  If  you  had 
come  properly  in  at  the  door,  I  should  have  received  you  ;  but  you  are 
an  impostor,  I  pronounce  you  an  impostor."  That  is  more  than  you 
know,  sir,  and,  I  add,  more  than  I  know  myself;  but,  if  we  cannot 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  149 

.igree  about  the  church,  and  the  door,  blessed  be  God  !  we  can  agree 
in  one  fundamental  point :  While  we  were  yet  sinners,  Christ  Jesus 
died  for  us,  and,  while  we  were  enemies,  we  were  reconciled  to 
God  by  the  death  of  his  Son.  The  old  gentleman  started  from  his 
seat,  and,  running  round  the  apartment,  exclaimed,  in  a  loud  and  thun- 
dering voice,  to  those,  who  were  without :  "  Come  in,  and  hear  gibberish, 
gibberish,  gibberish."  I  was  astonished,  and  when  he  had  so  far  spent  his 
rage,  as  to  remain  for  one  moment  silent,  I  looked  full  in  his  face,  and 
asked  :  Pray,  sir,  what  language  do  you  make  use  of  ?  Is  it  possible, 
that  you,  a  clergyman,  highly  distinguished,  the  head  of  the  Presbytery, 
and  now  in  the  evening  of  life,  should  be  so  little  acquainted  with  the 
scriptures,  as  to  call  the  language  of  revelation,  gibberish  ?  "  You 
know  nothing  about  revelation  ;  there  never  v;as  an  individual  of  the 
human  race,  that  ever  had  any  interest  in  Christ,  or  in  God,  until  they 
had  repentance  and  faith."  Pardon  me,  sir  ;  you  do  not  believe  this 
yourself.  "  I  say,  I  do."  Excuse  me,  sir  ;  you  certainly  do  not. 
"  Give  me  leave  to  tell  you,  you  have  a  great  deal  of  impudence,  thus 
to  talk  to  me."  Nay,  sir,  I  do  not  wish  to  offend  ;  I  wish  you  to  re- 
consider your  assertion  ;  I  am  confident,  you  do  not  believe  it  ;  and  I 
am  confident,  you  will  have  the  goodness  to  own  it,  before  I  quit 
this  apartment.  "  Let  me  tell  you,  young  man,  you  have  the  greatest 
stock  of  assurance,  I  have  ever  met  with  in  any  young  person.  I  tell 
you  again,  there  never  was  an  individual  of  the  human  race,  who  left 
this  world  without  faith  and  repentance,  who  ever  had  any  interest  in 
Christ,  or  ever  tasted  happiness."  Not  one  ?  "  No,  sir,  not  one." 
Oh  !  sir,  1  am  sorry  you  compel  mo  to  make  you  retract  this  ail'irma- 
tion.  Turning  to  the  company,  he  required  them  to  say,  whether  they 
did  not  think  my  insolence  surpassed  credibility  ?  The  company  were 
silent,  and,  after  a  pause,  I  said  :  I  know,  sir,  if  you  believe  Calvinistic 
principles,  you  believe  some  infants  may  be  eternally  lost ;  but  no  Cal- 
vinist  denies,  that  some  infants  are  interested  in  Christ,  and  eternally 
blessed,  although  they  passed  out  of  time,  without  repentance  or  faith. 
"  Sir,  I  never  thought  of  infants."  So  I  imagined  ;  and  it  was  there- 
fore, sir,  I  took  the  liberty  to  say,  you  did  not  believe  what  you  advan- 
ced. "  But  I  believe  it  with  respect  to  all,  besides  infants."  No,  sir, 
pardon  me,  you  do  not.  Again  he  was  exceeding  angry,  until  I  men- 
tioned idiots.  '*  I  did  not  think  of  idiots."  I  believe,  you  did  not  : 
•but,  my  good  sir,  would  it  not  be  cs  well,  if  you  wore  always  to  think, 
before  you  speak  ?  "  Again  I  say,  I  am  astonished  at  your  impudence  : 
T  mnld  not  have.  behVved  a  youn.fr  man,  like  yo,u.  could  }K.I\<>  .hru!  .;:o 


150  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

much  impudence."  I  dare  say,  sir,  you  are  disappointed  ;  you  expect- 
ed to  have  met  a  timid,  poor,  destitute  stranger,  who  would  have  been 
confounded  by  noise,  and  such  c"ogent  arguments,  as  gibberish,  gibber- 
ish, repeatedly  vociferated  ;  you  expected,  I  should  not  have  dared  to 
utter  a  syllable ;  you  have  been  pleased  to  treat  me  very  roughly  ;  you 
know  not,  but  you  have  been  pouring  vinegar  into  wounds  already  sore  ; 
you  have,  sir,  been  vexing  the  stranger  ;  and  without  any  provocation 
on  my  part.  "  Ay,  ay,  this  is  the  language  of  all  impostors." 

Thus  ended  my  morning  repast.  I  was  very  much  hurt  ;  yet  I  reap- 
ed advantage  from  this  new  trial.  Returning  to  my  lodgings,  I  expe- 
rienced the  most  painful  sensations  ;  but  the  rebuff',  I  had  received,  op<fc- 
rated  as  usual,  it  drew  me  nearer  to  my  God,  and,  pouring  out  my  heart 
in  secret  before  the  Father  of  my  spirit,  I  obtained,  what  the  favour  of 
the  clergy  could  never  give — consolation  and  peace  in  believing. 

My  conduct  at  this  breakfasting  conference  was  represented  in  such 
a  point  of  view,  as  increased  the  number  of  my  friends  ;  and  clerical 
gentlemen,  in  this  place  and  its  environs,  forebore  direct  attacks  ;  but 
the  tongue  of  the  private  slanderer  was  busily  employed.  A  gentleman 

of  C -,the  Rev.  Mr.S ,  repeatedly  attended  my  public  labours ; 

addressed  me  after  preaching,  continued  some  time  ill  conversation  with 
me,  and  appointed  a  day,  on  which  he  pressed  me  to  dine  with  him. 
I  accepted  his  politeness  with  gratitude,  and  was  punctual  to  the  time. 

Mr.  S received  me   with  manifest  satisfaction  ;  we  were  alone, 

and  we  passed  many  hours  most  pleasantly,,  Mr.  S seemed  so- 
licitous, that  I  should  view  him,  neither  as  a  skeptic,  nor  a  caviller,  but 
simply  an  inquirer  after  truth.  He  asked  me  many  questions,  which 
I  answered  as  clearly,  as  I  was  able  ;  and  he  appeared  sometimes  sati^l 
fied,  sometimes  dissatisfied,  and  sometimes  silenced.  Upon  the  whole, 
his  deportment  was  gentlemanly,  and  I  could  not  forbear  regarding 
him,  as  a  sensible,  illumined  Christian.  On  my  departure  he  urged  me 

to  consider  his  house  my  home,  whenever  I  visited  C ;   waited  on 

me  while  I  mounted  my  horse,  pressed  my  hand,  and,  with  much  ap- 
parent devotion,  supplicated  the  blessing  of  heaven  upon  me.  On  re- 
curring to  my  journal,  I  find  my  notice  of  this  interview,  concluded  as 
follows  : — Thus  far  am  I  brought  on  my  way  rejoicing  ;  the  Lord  is 
my  Sun  and  Shield,  blessed  be  the  name  of  my  Gcd  !  Yet  no  sooner 

was  I  out  of  view,   than  this  same  Mr.  S ordered  his  horse,   and 

posting  to  every  respectable  family  in  his  parish,  informed  them,  that, 
with  all  my  cunning,  he  had  outwitted  me  ;  that  he  had  asked  me  to 
dine,  and,  by  flattery  and  caresses,  had  thrown  me  off  my  guard,  and 


LlFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  151 

obtained  a  complete  knowledge  of  my  principles.  "  Well,  dear  sir, 
and  what  are  his  principles  ?"  O  !  truly  shocking  1  horrid  !  most 
horrid  !  I  dare  not  relate  them,  you  shall  not  be  contaminated  by  the 
recital  ;  it  would  be  dangerous  in  the  extreme.  Nor  was  this  enough. 
Being  a  member  of  the  Presbytery,  he  wrote  a  circular  letter,  addressing 
every  leading  associate,  which  effectually  steeled  all  hearts,  and,  so  far 
as  his  influence  extended,  barred  every  door  against  me.  Calumnies  of 
various  descriptions  were  disseminated  ;  rancour  became  uncommonly 
prolific  ;  astonishing  efforts  were  made  to  destroy  my  reputation  ; 
but  God  was  with  me,  and  his  spirit  was  my  never- failing  support.  In 
the  midst  of  these  fiery  trials,  I  passed  on  :  succeeding  weeks  and 
months  rolled  away,  while  my  days  were  appropriated  to  my  beloved 
home,  to  different  parts  of  the  Jersies,  Philadelphia,  New-York,  and 
many  of  the  intervening  towns,  scattered  between  those  cities. 

In  the  commencement  of  the  Autumn,  of  1773,  I  was  strongly  in- 
duced to  journey  as  far  as   Newport,  in  Rhode-Island;   and   having 
dropped  a  tear,  at  parting  with  my  faithful  friend,  I  commended  him  to 
the  care  of  heaven,  and  began  my  new  tour  of  duty.     The  chilly  morn- 
ings and  evenings,  of  even  the  first  autumnal  month,  gave  me  to  expe- 
rience the  wrant  of'-an- outside  garment.     I  was,  however,  determined 
not  to  solicit  human  aid  ;  this,  I  believed,  would  be  taking  the  business 
out  of  the  hand  of  my  Master.     If  God  had  sent  me,  he  would  put  it 
into  the  hearts  of  his  people  to  supply  me ;  yet  I  did  not  calculate,  that 
this  want  would  be  supplied,  until  I  reached  New- York.     I  believed  I 
had  in  that  city  a  friend,  who  would  derive  pleasure  from  administering 
to  my  necessities.     But  when  I  was  preparing  to  leave  Brunswick,  a 
person  entered  the  parlour,  displayed  a  number  of  patterns,  requested  I 
would  make  a  choice   for  a  greatcoat ;  and  asked,  how  long  I   should 
tarry  in  town  ?    I  told  him,  I  should  leave  town  early  on  the  succeeding 
morning  :  "  Well,  sir,"  he  returned,  "  your  coat  shall  be  ready."    I 
asked,  by  whom  he   was  sent  ?     "  Sir,   I  was  ordered  not  to  say  by 
whom."    It  is  very  well,  I  know  who  sent  you.    "  Do  you,  sir  ?"  Yes, 
sir,  it  was  God,  my  Father;  who,  having  all  hearts  in  his  hand,  has 
stimulated  your  employer.     Early  the  following  morning,  the  coat  was 
brought  home ;  I   was  deeply  affected,  and  laying  my  hand  upon  it, 
I  said  :    Henceforward  thou  shall  be  my  monitor  ;  whenever  I  feel  my 
heart  desponding,  in  silent,  but  persuasive  language,  thou  shalt  say : 
"  Cast  thy  care  upon  God,  for  he  careth  for  thee."     It  was  not  so  much 
the  supply  of  this  pressing  want,  that  pleased  me,  as  the  recognition  of 
t lie  immediate  hand  of  paternal  Deity,  who  thus  vouchsafed  to   own, 


152  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

and  bless  my  mission.  On  my  arrival  in  New- York,  I  learned,  to  rny 
great  astonishment,  that  the  friend,  on  whom  my  hopes  of  a  winter  gar- 
ment had  rested,  was  become  my  enemy  !  I  was  greatly  pained,  he  was 
very  dear  to  me ;  but  a  religious  slanderer  had  been  at  his  ear,  and  had 
prejudiced  him  against  me.  I  lost  him  forever — alas  !  alas  !  how  many 
such  losses«have  I  sustained,  since  I  became  a  promulgator  of  the  truth, 
as  it  is  in  Jesus. 

Leaving    New- York,  I  postponed  my  journey  to  Newport,  passed 
through  East  Jersey,  and  stopped  at  Amboy,  where  I  had  many  friends. 
Sitting  one  evening  at  tea  with  a  lady,  she  complained,  that  her  maid 
had  quitted  her,  having  been  seduced  from  her  duty,  by  a  foot  soldier. 
This  immediately  reminded  me  of  Mrs.   Trinbath,  the  poor  unhappy 
lady,  at  whose  house,  in  Cork,  I  had,  in  company  with  Mr.  Whitefield, 
and  others,  been  so  splendidly  entertained.     I  related  the  mournful  tale, 
when   the  lady  assured  me,  she  knew  the  unhappy  creature ;  she  had 
seen  her  in   Amboy,  and  that  she  was  now  in  Now- York,  in  a  most 
wretched  situation.     1  immediately  conceived  a  hope,  that,  if  I  could 
obtain  an  interviexv  with  her,   I  might  prevail  upon  her  to  return  to  her 
widowed  mother,  and  to  her  children  ;  and  although  her  husband  was 
no  more,  she  might  yet,  in  some  measure,  retridjjpthe  past.     Alas  ! 
ai;is  !   1  did  not  calculate,  that  I  was  thus  making  provision  for  the  most 
serious  calamity,  which,  during  my  sojournjn  this  new  world,  had  un- 
til then  overtaken  me.     The  following  day,  intent  on  my   purpose,  I 
took  passage  in  the  packet,  for  New- York  ;  accompanied  by  the  ser- 
jeant-major  of  the  regiment,  to  which  the  fellow  belonged,  with  whom 
this  deluded  woman  lived.     I  asked  him,  if  he  knew  such  a  person  .' 
Yes,  he  knew  her,  and  she  was  in  a  very  wretched  condition.     I  sighecf1 
from  the  inmost  recesses  of  my  soul,  while  I  listened  to  his  account  of 
her  manner  of  living.     I  begged  to  know,  if  I  could  see  her.    Yes,  he 
could  conduct  me  to  her  abode  ;  but  on  our  arrival,  passing  over  the 
common,  near  the  gaol,  to  the  residence  of  this  poor  creature,   we 
chanced  to  meet  her  infamous  seducer,  who,  not  having  heard  of  the 
death  of  Mr.  Trinbath,  immediately  concluded  I  was  that  injured  hus- 
band, come  to  reclaim  my  wretched  wanderer.     Under  this  impression, 
he  hastened  home,  and  effectually  secreted  her,  before  we  reached  the 
door.     I  was  disappointed,  but  I  informed  a  poor  creature  in  the  house, 
that  I  would  call,  upon  the  ensuing  day,  at  one  o'clock,  when  I  hoped 
1  might  obtain  an  interview.      I  was,  the  next  day,   punctual  to  the 
appointment:;  but,  instead  of  the  misguided  woman,  1  recei veil  a  letter, 
directed  to  Mr.  Trinbath.,  entreating  most  earnestly,  that  I  would  not 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY-  153 

attempt  to  see  her ;  that,  after  treating-  me  as  she  had  done,  she  never 
would  see  me  more ;  and  that,  if  I  persisted  in  pursuing  her,  she  would 
leave  the  city,  and,  taking  with  her  her  miserable  children,  they  would  all 
perish  together,  for  she  would,  rather  than  meet  my  eye,  suffer  a  thousand 
deaths.  T  was  beyond  measure  shocked  at  this  letter  ;  I  saw  the  abso- 
lute necessity  of  seeing  and  convincing  her  of  her  error  ;  but  how  was 
this  to  be  effectuated  ?  I  could  devise  no  plan.  I  told  the  old  woman, 
it  was  a  most  capital  mistake  ;  that  I  was  not  the  person  she  supposed. 
O,  said  she,  you  need  say  nothing  about  that,  sir ;  every  body  knows 
you  are  her  husband,  and  every  body  pities  you,  poor  gentleman,  that 
you  should  have  such  a  wife  ;  but  she  has  bad  advisers,  and  I  dare  say, 
if  you  can  see  her  and  forgive  her,  (and  every  body  says,  if  you  did  not 
intend  to  do  so,  you  would  never  have  sought  her,)  she  will  again  be 
a  very  good  woman.  I  was  provoked  beyond  endurance  ;  but  every 
appearance  of  irritation  was  imputed  to  my  disappointment,  and  con- 
sequent resentment.  My  soul  was  harrowed  up  by  agonizing  distress  ; 
unable  to  convince  the  old  woman,  I  returned  to  my  lodgings.  My 
friends  perceived  the  anguish  of  my  spirit,  for  which  they  were  well 
able  to  account ;  they,  however,  carefully  avoided  the  subject.  At  last, 
not  being  able  to  control  my  emotions,  I  burst  into  tears.  They  were 
alarmed.  "  What  is  the  matter  ?"  I  circumstantially  related  the  whole 
story,  and  dwelt  upon  my  sufferings,  consequent  upon  my  inability  to 
see  Mrs.  Trinbath,  and  convince  her  of  her  mistake.  My  friends  ap- 
peared relieved,  and  proposed  my  writing  to  her,  and  leaving  my  letter 
at  her  lodgings  ;  she  will  see  it  is  not  the  hand-writing  of  her  husband. 
The  propriety  of  this  measure  was  obvious  ;  I  asked  the  gentleman,  if 
he  would  accompany  me?  "  Most  gladly."  I  wrote  immediately, 
labouring  to  convince  this  unfortunate  woman  of  her  error,  and  assuring 
her,  that  my  friend,  Mr.  Trinbath,  had  been  many  years  dead  ;  that  if 
she  would  but  give  me  a  meeting,  for  a  single  moment,  she  would  ac- 
knowledge, she  had  nothing  to  fear  from  me.  This  letter  was  ineffectu- 
al ;  she  was  positive  it  was  all  a  deception,  and  that,  with  a  view  of  de- 
ceiving her,  I  had  em  ployed  some  other  pen. 

This  story  was  a  sweet  morsel  to  mv  religious  foes.  It  was  painted 
in  the  most  odious  colours,  and  industriously  exhibited.  They  declar- 
ed, the  woman  was  unquestionably  my  wife  ;  and  that,  on  account  of  the 
treatment  she  had  received  from  her  barbarous  husband,  she  had  pre- 
ferred putting  herself  uador  the  protection  oi  a  commom  soldier  ;  that 
she  had  attended  church,  upon  a  lecture  evening,  and  upon  seeing  me, 
h^r  husband,  in  the  pulpit,  she  had  shrieked  aloud,  and  fainted.  This, 


154  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

and  a  thousand  other  falsehoods,  were  circulating,  through  the  city, 
My  humane  friends,  at  length,  interfered ;  they  solicited  the  commanding 
officer  to  oblige  the  fellow,  with  whom  the  woman  lived,  to  produce 
her;  she  approached  with  dread  apprehension;  a  large  company  was 
collected,  spectators  of  the  scene.  She  caught  a  glance,  and  exclaiming, 
in  a  tremulous  accent,  It  is,  it  is  he — immediately  fainted.  Curiosity, 
and  humanity,  combined  to  recover  her  ;  she  was  led  into  the  parlour. 
I  appeared  full  before  her,  entreating  her  to  take  a  view  of  my  face ;  she 
did  so,  and  no  words  can  express  her  confusion  ;  her  acknowledgments 
were  repeated  and  copious  ;  she  did  not  recollect,  ever  to  have  seen  me 
before.  I  was  most  happy  in  the  result  of  this  untoward  business,  which 
had  nearly  annihilated  my  anxiety  respecting  her  restoration  to  her  con- 
nexions. Indeed  I  was  assured,  no  entreaties  would  procure  her  return 
to  Cork.  So  many  had  witnessed  an  ecclaircissement,  so  honourable 
to  me,  that  I  fondly  believed  it  would  be  attached  to  the  narration  ;  but 
alas  !  there  was  not  a  thousandth  part  of  the  pains  taken  to  publish  the 
truth,  as  had  been  taken  to  spread  far  and  wide  the  slander  ;  here  it 
was  the  still  voice  of  friendship  ;  there  it  was  Slander  with  her  thousand 
tongues.  None  but  God  can  tell,  how  much  I  have  suffered,  from  the 
various  trials,  I  have  encountered.  Again,  I  mournfully  acknowledged, 
that  my  object  in  coming  to  America  was  not  in  any  view  obtained  ; 
that  my  grand  desideratum  appeared  further  and  further  from  my  reach  ; 
again  I  wished  most  ardently  to  be  in  England  ;  yea,  in  the  very  scenes 
from  which  I  had  escaped,  if  I  might  thus  be  delivered,  from  the  dis- 
tracted situation,  in  which  I  was  involved ;  and  the  more  I  contemplated 
the  indignation,  and  power,  of  the  clergy,  the  more  frequently  I  ex- 
claimed, Doubtless  I  shall  one  day  perish  by  the  hand  of  my  enemy. 
Yet,  in  the  darkest  night  of  my  affliction,  my  gracious  God  frequently 
vouchsafed  to  grant  me  peace,  and  joy,  in  believing  that  His  almighty 
power  was  sufficient  for  me  ;  and,  in  the  pulpit,  whatever  was  my  pre- 
vious situation,  either  mental,  or  corporeal,  when  engaged  in  the  inves- 
tigation of  divine  truth,  I  was  not  only  tranquil,  but  happy  :  And  this 
happiness  I  often  enjoyed  ;  for  an  ardent  curiosity  obliged  the  people 
every  where  to  hear ;  and,  when  a  pulpit  could  aot  be  obtained,  a  private 
house,  a  court-house,  a  wood,  answered  the  purpose  ;  and  I  rejoiced, 
while  contemplating  the  irradiations  of  divine  truth,  bursting  through 
the  dark  clouds  of  prejudice,  and  with  such  imposing  splendor,  as  could 
only  be  effectuated  by  Omnipotent  power. 

I  nvrivod  frequent  and  most  pressing  invitations  to  visit  New-Eng- 
land.    During  my  residence  in  New-York,  I  became  known  to  many 


LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  155 

gentlemen  of  Connecticut ;  and  I  was  requested  to  stop,  and  deliver  my 
testimony  in  various  places,  along  the  road.  I  resumed  my  purpose  of 
visiting  Newport,  determining-  to  proceed  thither  with  all  possible  dis- 
patch. I  had,  however,  promised  to  stop  at  a  friend's  house,  in  Milford, 
and  at  another's,  in  Guilford  ;  at  which  places  I  preached  to  very  large 
congregations  ;  several  strangers,  having  seen  me  elsewhere,  recognised 
me,  and  entreated  me  to  accompany  them  to  their  respective  homes  ; 
but  my  object  was  Newport.  Many  individuals,  from  Norwich,  de- 
parted from  Guilford  with  me  ;  they  gave  me  to  understand,  that,  hav- 
ing made  part  of  my  audience,  on  the  preceding  evening,  they  were 
extremely  desirous  I  should  proceed  with  them  to  Norwich.  We  pass- 
ed the  day  very  agreeably  together,  conversing  with  great  freedom. 
About  sunset,  we  reached  New-London,  where  it  was  my  resolution 
to  bid  my  new  associates  adieu  .;  but  they  so  earnestly  importuned  me 
to  go  on,  one  gentleman  in  particular,  that,  accepting  his  proffered 
kindness,  I  was  that  night  lodged  in  his  hospitable  dwelling.  He  soon 
became,  and  ever  after  continued,  my  steadfast  friend.  Many,  in  Nor- 
wich, received  me  with  great  kindness  ;  a  house  of  worship  was  pro- 
vided ;  but  it  not  being  sufficiently  spacious,  the  doors  of  the  great  meet- 
ing-house were  thrown  open,  and.  never  afterwards  shut  against  me. 
Thus,  in  this  instance,  the  zeal  of  the  people  has  been  sufficiently  im- 
posing, to  prevail  against  ministerial  opposition.  The  friends  I  ob- 
tained, in  Norwich,  were,  in  truth,  inestimable  ;  some  individuals  are 
not  yet  called  home ;  they  remain  unwavering  in  the  belief  of  the  truth^ 
as  it  is  in  Jesus  ;  and  in  their  affectionate  attachment  to  its  feeble  advo- 
cate. At  Norwich,  I  was  solicited  to  preach  in  the  meeting-house  of 
Mr.  Hart,  of  Preston  ;  to  which  place  many  of  my  new  friends  ac- 
companied me.  Having  passed  the  night  at  Preston,  on  the  succeed- 
ing morning,  I  re-commenced  my  journey,  with  the  Rev.  Mr.  H ,* 

of  Newport.     The  distance  was  between  30  and  40  miles  ;  but  as  Mr, 

H was  going  Aowie,  he  would  not  stop  to  dine  on  the  road.     In. 

the  course  of  the  day,  Mr.  H thus  questioned  me  :  "  Well,  sir,  1 

suppose  you  will  preach  in  Newport  ?"  Very  likely,  sir.  "  You  have 
friends  there,  I  presume  ?"  No,  sir,  I  do  not  know  a  single  soul 
"  You  have  letters  of  recommendation,  perhaps  ?"  Not  a  line,  sir. 
"  Where  then  do  you  intend  to  go,  and  what  do  you  intend  to  do  T 
I  have  laid  no  plans,  sir.  "  I  promise  you,  you  shall  not  preach  in  my 

*  Nearly  the  whole  of  this  conversation  was  published  in  the  first  volume,  Lei- 
ter  Fourth,  of  "  Letters,  and  Sketches  of  Sermons."  Instead  of  the  letter  A.  <h* 
letter  H....,  which  was  the  original  and  true  initial,  is  now  substituted 


I  ;j()  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN   MURRAY. 

meeting."  I  should  be  very  much  surprised,  if  I  did,  sir.  "  And  I 
suppose,  you  think  you  are  called  of  God,  to  go  to  Newport  ?"  I  think 
it  is  not  unlikely,  sir.  "  I  believe,  you  will  find  yourself  mistaken." 
It  is  possible.  "  Suppose  you  should  find  no  place  to  preach  in,  what 
would  you  do  then  ?"  Devote  myself  to  private  conversation.  "  But, 
suppose  you  could  find  no  one  to  converse  with  ?"  Then  I  would 
turn  about,  and  come  back  again.  "  But  what  would  you  think  oi 
your  faith  ?"  Call  it  fancy.  But  at  present,  I  think  I  shall  preach  the 
gospel  in  Newport  ;  and,  although  I  am  an  utter  stranger,  knowing  no 
one,  nor  known  by  any  one  ;  yet  I  expect,  before  I  leave  the  place,  to 
have  many  friends.  "  Ay,  these  are  fine  fancies,  fine  fancies  indeed." 
Had  you  not  better  suspend  your  decision,  until  you  witness  the  result? 
will  it  not  then  be  full  time  to  determine,  whether  it  be  faith,  or  fane  </  '. 
"  If  it  should  not  be,  as  I  predict,  I  should  not  be  ashamed  to  own  my 
error  ;  if  it  should,  you  ought  to  blush  for  your  unwarrantable  confi- 
dence. But,  as  it  is  not  impossible,  you  may  preach  in  that  city,  and 
that  some  of  my  people  may  be  among  the  number  of  your  hearers, 
I  think  I  have  a  right  to  question  you."  If  God  will  give  me  leave 
to  preach  to  his  people,  I  am  content.  "  What  do  you  mean  by  that, 
sir  ?"  Your  observation  brought  to  my  mind,  what,  on  a  certain  occa- 
sion, a  very  distinguished  servant  of  God  said  to  his  master,  when  he 
was  told  to  go  down  and  see  what  his  people  were  doing.  O  lord, 
they  are  not  my  people,  they  are  thy  people.  However,  Moses  was  not 
settled  on  your  plan.  "  Well,  sir,  I  look  upon  my  people  to  be  God's 
people."  You  are  perfectly  right,  sir,  so  indeed  they  are  ;  and  if  1 
speak  to  them  at  all,  I  shall  speak  to  them,  in  that  character.  "  Well, 
sir,  as  you  call  yourself  a  preacher  of  the  gospel,  and  may,  as  I  have 
said,  preach  to  my  people  ;  it  is  proper  I  should  know  what  ideas  you 
have  of  gospel.  Tell  me,  sir,  what  is  gospel  ?"  I  am  happy  in  be- 
ing able  to  give  you  a  direct  answer.  The  gospel,  sir,  is  a  solemn  de- 
claration, given  upon  the  oath  of  Jehovah,  that,  w  the  Seed  of  Abraham, 
all  the  nations  of  the  earth  should  be  blessed.  "  Is  that  all  you  know  of 
gospel  ?"  Would  it  not,  my  good  sir,  require  a  very  long  time  to  in- 
form mankind,  who,  and  ichat,  that  Seed  is  ;  how,  and  in  what  manner 
all  the  nations  of  the  earth  are,  and  shaft  be  blessed  therein  ;  and  what 
blessings  they  are  blessed  with,  hi  Christ  Jesus  ?  The  apostle  Paul, 
although  he  laboured  more  abundantly,  than  his  brethren,  found  this 
vast,  this  important  subject,  abundantly  sufficient  for  his  whole  life  ; 
and  those,  who  are  blessed  in  that  Seed,  will  find  the  contemplation  of 
that  blessedness,  which  thev  shall  be  blessed  with,  in  Him,  sufficient  to 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  157 

furnish  a  song,  which,  although  never  ending,  will  be  ever  new.  "  If 
such  be  your  views,  you  know  nothing  at  all  of  gospel."  You  could 
not  so  absolutely  determine  this  matter,  if  you  yourself  were  not  ac- 
quainted with  the  meaning  of  the  term,  gospel.  Tell  me  then,  sir,  if 
you  please,  what  is  gospel  ?  "  Why,  sir,  this  is  gospel :  He,  that  be- 
lieveth,  shall  be  saved,  and  he,  that  believeth  not,  shall  be  damned/' 
Indeed,  sir,  I  had  thought,  the  literal,  simple  meaning  of  the  term  gos- 
pel was,  glad  tidings.  Which  part  of  the  passage,  you  have  cited,  is 
gospel,  that  which  announces  salvation,  or  that  which  announces  c?«m- 
nation  ?  "  Well  then,  if  you  please,  this  is  gospel :  He,  that  believeth, 
shall  be  saved."  Believeth  what,  sir  ?  "  That."  What,  sir  ?  "  That, 
I  tell  you."  What,  sir  ?  "  That,  I  tell  you  :  He,  that  believeth,  shall 
be  saved."  Believeth  what,  sir  ?  What  is  he  to  believe  ?  "  Why 
that,  1  tell  you."  I  wished,  sir,  to  treat  this  investigation  seriously  ; 
but,  as  you  seem  to  be  disposed  to  be  rather  ludicrous,  we  will,  if  you 
please,  dismiss  the  subject.  "  No,  sir,  I  do  not  mean  to  be  ludicrous  ; 
I  am  very  serious."  Well,  sir,  if  so,  then  I  beg  leave  to  ask,  what  is  it 
I  am  to  believe  ;  the  believing  of  which,  will  save  me  ?  "  That  Jesus 
Christ  made  it  possible  for  sinners  to  be  saved."  By  what  means  ? 
"  By  believing."  Believing  what  ?  "  That."  What  ?  "  That  Jesus 
Christ  made  it  possible  for  sinners  to  be  saved."  By  what  means  is  it 
possible  sinners  may  be  saved  ?  "  By  believing,  I  tell  you."  But  the 
devils  believe  ;  will  their  believing  save  them  ?  "  No,  sir."  Suppose 
I  believe,  that  Jesus  Christ  made  it  possible  to  save  sinners  ;  will  that 
save  me  ?  "  No,  sir."  Then,  sir,  let  me  ask,  what  am  I  to  believe, 
the  believing  of  which  will  save  me  ?  "  Why,  sir,  you  must  believe 
the  gospel,  that  Jesus  made  it  possible  for  sinners  to  be  saved."  But 
by  what  means?  "  By  believing."  Believing  what  ?  "  That,  I  tell  you." 

Mr.  H could  not  but  be  conscious  the  ground  he  had  taken 

was  untenable.  Had  he  answered  in  scripture  language,  that  the  truth 
to  be  believed,  and  which  we  make  God  a  liar  by  not  believing,  was, 
that  Christ  had  given  himself  a  ransom  for  all,  to  be  testified  in  due 
time,  ;  that  he  had  absolutely  tasted  death  for  every  man  ;  and  that  eve-ay 
man  should  be  made  alive  in  Christ  Jesus,  &c.  &c.  the  inference  was 
unavoidable,  nor  man,  nor  devil  could  undo,  what  God  had  done  ;  the 
power  exists  not,  which  can  set  aside  the  decrees  of  God.  If  the  Re- 
deemer did  not  taste  death  for  all;  if  He  has  not  purchased  all;  then  those, 
for  whom  Ho  has  not  tasted  death,  whom  He  has  not  purchased,  have 
110  right  to  believe  He  has;  and  were  they  so  to  believe,  they  must  indu- 
bitably believe  a  lie.  But,  finding  the  tamper  of  Mr.  II rise  high- 


158  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

er  and  higher,  every  time  I  repeated  my  question  ;  I  endeavoured  to 
bring  the  matter  to  a  conclusion,  by  observing,  that  I  was  astonished  to 
find  a  master  in  Israel,  and  a  writer  too,  either  not  able,  or  not  willing, 
to  answer  a  simple  question,  viz.  what  I  am  to  believe  is  the  foundation 
of  my  salvation  1  what  I  am  to  believe  procures  my  justification  in  the 
sight  of  God  ?  "  And  I  am  astonished  at  your  blasphemy."  This  is 
in  character,  sir ;  men  of  your  description  were  long  since  fond  of  fixing 
this  charge  on  both  the  Master,  and  his  witnesses  ;  but,  remember,  sir, 

if  I  have  blasphemed,  it  is  only  Mr.  H ,  whom  I  have  blasphemed. 

"  Well,  sir,  I  believe  I  have  gone  too  far  ;  I  will,  if  you  please,  take 
back  the  charge."  With  all  my  heart,  sir.  "  I  do  not  doubt,  you  may 
be  admired  in  Newport  a  whole  fortnight."  That  no  doubt  will  be 
fourteen  days  longer,  than  you  would  wish.  Arriving  in  sight  of  New- 
port, Mr.  H said  :  "  There,  sir,  is  my  meeting-house  ;  at  a  little 

distance  from  thence  is  my  dwelling-house,  and  my  friends  are  mulit- 
plied."  Well,  sir,  I  have  no  home,  meeting-house,  nor  friend,  in  New- 
port. Yet,  I  repeat,  before  I  leave  that  city,  I  expect  to  have  more 
than  one  home,  and  many  friends.  "  Well,  now  I  think  of  it,  there  is 
one  man,  who  has  a  little  place,  in  which,  possibly,  you  may  get  leave  to 
preach  ;  I  will  direct  you  to  a  man,  who  has  some  acquaintance  with 
him."  I  will  thank  you,  sir,  to  inform  me  where  my  horse  may  be 
taken  care  of ;  for  myself,  I  have  little  concern.  "  I  promise  you,  horse- 
keeping  is  very  high  in  Newport."  That,  sir,  is  very  sad  tidings  to  me, 
for  I  promise  you,  my  finances  are  very  low.  Some  very  bitter 
speeches  were  made  ;  and  I  regretted,  that  I  was  so  unfortunate,  as  to 

have  taken  the  journey  with  Mr.  H .     Your  people,  said  I,  are 

leavened  with  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees,  and  you  seem  to  be  leavened 
with  the  leaven  of  Herod.  "  What  do  you  mean  by  the  leaven  of 
Herod  ?"  I  mean  the  nature  of  Herod.  "  How  does  that  apply  ?" 
Some  persons  urged  our  Master  to  fly,  in  consequence  of  Herod's  seek- 
ing his  life.  Go,  said  He,  tell  that  fox,  I  work  to-day  and  to-morrow, 
&c.  &c.  Our  Master  denominated  Herod  a  fox,  for  the  purpose  of 
giving  an  idea  of  his  nature.  What  is  a  fox  ?  ia  creature  that  lives  upon 
the  spoil  ;  but  he  is  dependent  upon  the  secrecy  of  the  night,  and,  we 
are  told,  in  order  the  more  effectually  to  cover  his  designs,  he  sometimes 
imitates  the  wratch-dog,  thus  endeavouring  to  make  it  appear,  he  is  de- 
fending the  property  of  the  husbandman,  while,  under  the  guise  of 
watchful  care  for  others,  he  is  covertly  acting  for  himself,  till  the  morn- 
ing dawns,  till  the  light  appears,  and  then  his  labour  ends.  This  is  the 
leaven  of  Herod,  and  it  was  of  the  nature  of  this  insidious  animal,  that 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  159 

our  Lord  cautioned  his  disciples  to  beware.  "  Well,  there  is  something- 
ingenious  in  that,  I  confess."  We  reached  the  ferry  a  little  before  sun- 
set, and  on  landing  at  Newport :  "  There,"  said  Mr.  H ,  pointing 

to  a  small  shop,  "  If  you  will  call  on  that  man,  he  will  give  you  direc- 
tiop."  I  walked  on,  stopped  at  the  door,  and  holding  the  bridle  in  my 
hand,  asked  the  man  behind  the  counter,  if  he  would  be  so  obliging  as 
to  inform  me,  which  was  the  best  inn  for  keeping  horses  ?  "  Please  to 
walk  in,  sir."  I  fastened  my  horse  and  entered  the  shop,  and  seeing  the 
man  look  very  gloomy,  and  hearing  him  sigh  very  bitterly,  I  concluded 
he  must  be  under  the  pressure  of  some  heavy  calamity  ;  and,  as  no 
woman  appeared,  I  suspected  the  poor  fellow  must  have  lost  his  wife, 
and  my  sympathies  were  very  powerfully  excited.  I  was,  however, 
solicitous  about  my  horse,  and  again  requested  the  requisite  informa- 
tion. "  Do  not  make  yourself  uneasy,  sir,  my  little  boy  will  be  here 
in  a  few  moments,  when  I  will  send  him  with  your  horse,  and  you  will 
be  so  obliging  as  to  tarry  here,  and  drink  tea  ;  my  wife  is  out  of  town, 
and  of  course  things  will  not  be  so  well,  as  if  she  were  here."  I  was 
very  much  relieved  by  this  intelligence,  and  sat  down.  "  How  far  have 
you  travelled  to-day,  sir  ?"  From  Preston,  in  Connecticut,  sir.  "  Did 

you  come  alone,  sir  ?"    No,  sir,  I  came  in  company  with  a  Mr.  H , 

one  of  your  Teachers  ;  I  parted  with  him  at  the  ferry.  "  Did  he  not 
ask  you  to  his  house  ?"  No,  sir.  "  Well,  sir,  I  hope  you  will  believe, 
there  is  not  another  man  in  this  town,  who  would  have  been  so  defi- 
cient ;  you  must,  however,  tarry  here  to-night,  and  we  will  take  especial 
care  of  your  horse."  You  are  very  obliging,  sir  ;  but  I  had  rather,  if 
you  please,  attend  to  my  horse  myself.  "  Will  you,  sir,  be  so  good,  as 
to  leave  this  matter  to  me,  and  take  some  refreshment  yourself  ?  You 
are  a  public  character,  and  I  have  been  accustomed  to  attend  to  public 
characters."  How  do  you  know  I  am  a  public  character  ?  there  is  no- 
thing in  my  appearance,  which  indicates  it.  "  The  moment  you  came 
to  my  door,  it  seemed  as  if  some  one  had  said,  The  person  who  addres- 
ses you  is  a  preacher ;  take  kind  notice  of  him  ;  and  I  immediately  deter- 
mined to  obey  the  impulse."  This  instance  of  providential  care  nearly 
overpowered  me,  I  was  the  more  affected  by  this  bright  manifestation, 
as  it  closed  a  very  dark  day.  It  spoke,  to  my  wounded  mind,  the  lan- 
guage of  assurance  ;  my  Divine  Master  was  with  me,  and  had  prepared 
the  heart  of  this  man  to  receive  me,  and  this  soothing  consideration 
gave  me  inexpressible  pleasure.  Had  I  been  in  a  clerical  dress,  or  had 
the  smallest  vestige  of  those  habiliments  been  discernible,  I  should  have 
believed  those  externals  had  produced  their  effect.  But,  divested  as  I 


160  LIFE  OF  WEV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

was,  of  every  thing  which  could  speak  to  the  eye,  I  could  not  but 
greatly  rejoice  in  this  instance  of  recognising  goodness,  and  my  full 
soul  glowed  with  fervent  and  devotional  gratitude.  My  cup  of  tea  wag 
mingled  with  my  tears  ;  but  they  were  tears  of  joy,  of  sacred  rapture. 
It  was  like  the  priest  leaving  me,  and  the  good  Samaritan  taking  me  up; 
and  the  oil  and  wine,  thus  poured  into  my  lacerated  bosom,  was  most 
salutary,  truly  refreshing. 

My  kind  host  summoned  a  number  of  his  friends  to  pass  the  even- 
ing ;  they  all  appeared  very  gloomy,  and  I  had  sympathy  for  their 
situation.  After  being  introduced,  they  continued  for  some  time  silent, 
and  sighed  in  their  turns  very  bitterly.  Those  sighs,  however,  al- 
though signs,  were  not  proofs,  of  sorrow  ;  it  was  the  custom  for  vei~y 
religious  people  to  be  very  melancholy,  and  these  were  very  religious 
people  ;  so  much  so,  that  I  afterwards  discovered,  there  was  no  society 
in  town,  with  which  they  could  conscientiously  associate.  It  was  pro- 
posed, I  should  narrate  my  experiences,  that  they  might  judge  if  I  were 
a  child  of  God.  I  very  readily  accommodated  myself  to  their  wishes, 
and  gave  them  a  sketch  of  some  memorable  scenes  in  my  life.  When 
I  closed,  a  profound  silence,  interrupted  only  by  sighs,  succeeded  ;  at 
last,  one  affirmed,  I  was  not  a  child  of  God,  my  experiences  were  not 
of  the  true  kind,  he  could  not  go  with  me  ;  a  second  pronounced,  I  was 
a  child  of  God,  for  he  felt  me,  as  I  proceeded.  Being  thus  divided, 
they  knew  not  on  what  to  determine  ;  at  last,  it  was  proposed  to  ap- 
ply to  Mr.  D for  his  meeting-house.  This  was  the  very  place, 

pointed  out  by  Mr.  H .     I  knew  his  design  was  to  ruin  me,  and 

therefore,  without  hesitation,  I  said  I  did  not  feel  a  freedom  to  speak  in 
the  proposed  place.  Well,  would  I  preach  in  the  room,  in  which  we 
were  sitting  ;  many  had  so  done,  and  why  not  me  ?  This  also  I  re- 
jected, it  was  too  much  confined.  They  pronounced  me  very  difficult ; 
they  did  not  believe,  I  should  find  any  other  place.  I  assured  them,  I 
was  not  anxious  in  this  respect.  If  God  had  sent  me,  he  would  pro- 
vide a  place  for  me  ;  if  he  had  not,  I  was  willing  to  return,  whence  I 
came.  "  Perhaps  God  has  provided  you  a  place,  by  directing  us  to 
make  these  offers."  No,  sir,  if  God  had  directed  you  to  make  these 
offers,  and  had  thought  proper  I  should  deliver  my  message  in  either 
of  the  places  mentioned,  he  would  have  disposed  my  heart  to  embrace 
them  ;  but  this  I  feel  He  has  not  done.  They  pronounced  me  very 
odd,  and  took  their  leave  ;  but  the  master  of  the  house,  and  one  of  his 
friends,  Conceiving  there  was  something  uncommon  in  me,  my  manner, 
and  my  matter,  continued  with  me  in  conversation  the  greater  part  of 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  J6J 

the  night,  and,  although  I  had  travelled  all  the  day,  yet  I  found  no  in- 
convenience from  this  additional  fatigue. 

After  breakfast,  on  the  ensuing  day,  I  walked  round  the  town,  and 
was  much  pleased  with  its  situation  ;  its  harbour,  .and  perspective  views, 
delighted  me,  and,  although  a  stranger,  with  only  a  few  shillings  in  my 
pocket,  my  bosom  was  as  tranquil,  as  if  in  my  own  residence,  and 
master  of  thousands.  Blessed  be  God  !  I  have  never  yet  experienced 
much  solicitude  about  this  world,  or  the  gifts,  which  it  has  to  bestow. 
It  never  entered  into  my  head,  or  heart,  that  I  should  not  be  supplied 
with  whatever  was  necessary  for  me ;  I  had  fared  hard,  and  I  could 
again  accommodate  myself  to  the  vicissitudes  of  life- — yea,  and  without 
a  murmur.  I  continued  perambulating  the  streets,  until  the  hour  of 
dining,  when  I  returned  to  my  lodgings.  "  Well,  sir,  the  committee 

of  Doctor  S 's  meeting  have   been  here,  to  engage  you  to  supply 

their  pulpit  to-morrow, — Sunday, — and  they  will  call  for  your  answer  in 
the  evening."  I  was,  I  confess,  astonished  ;  but  the  evening  produced 
the  committee,  and  I  acceded  to  their  wishes.  One  of  the  gentlemen 
pressed  me  to  return  with  him,  and  take  up  my  abode  at  his  house, 
during  my  continuance  in  Newport;  I  did  so,and  was  soon  domestica- 
ted in  his  family,  which  continued  my  occasional  home  for  many,  very 

many  years.     Doctor  S was  absent,  and  it  was  the  business  of  the 

committee  to  supply  the  desk,  till  his  return  ;  my  appearance  was  op- 
portune, and  the  people  were  generally  pleased.  I  was  requested  to 
publish  a  lecture  for  the  next  day.  I  did  so,  and  the  congregation  was 
crowded,  and  attentive.  I  informed  the  audience,  that  I  purposed 
tarrying  in  Newport  two  weeks,  during  which  time  I  was  ready  to 
unite  with  them,  in  consulting  the  sacred  writings,  as  often  as  they 
pleased ;  but  if  I  delivered  any  more  lectures,  it  must  be  in  the  evening; 
my  reason  for  which  was,  that  there  were  many  labouring  persons, 
who  could  not  attend,  without  loss  of  time,- — and  loss  of  time,  to  them, 
was  loss  of  property.  I  was  then  informed,  that  when  Mr.  Whitefield 
was  last  there,  the  parish  had  passed  a  vote  against  evening  lectures.  I 
replied  :  The  parish  has  an  indubitable  right  to  adhere  to  their  vote ; 
but  they  must  excuse  me,  if  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  abide  by  my  de- 
termination. The  parish  met,  re-considered  their  vote,  and  requested 
me  to  preach  in  the  evening.  Here  then  I  preached,  every  evening, 
until  the  Doctor's  return  ;  to  whom  my  kincj.,  honest  host,  requested 
me  to  accompany  him  on  a  visit,  insisting  upon  my  promising,  that  I 
would  return  with  him.  Simple  man,  because  he,  a  hearer,  was  pleas- 
ed, he  conceived  his  minister  would  also  be  pleased,  and  that  he  would 


162  LIFE    OF    RET.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

press  me  to  abide  at  his  house  ;  I  promised  him,  however,  and  he  ex- 
ulted in  having  gained  his  point.  The  Doctor  received  me  with  cool 
civility  ;  asked  me  a  great  many  questions  ;  spoke  of  my  pulpit  talents, 
in  the  way  I  expected  he  would  speak  of  them  ;  and  finally  expressed 
regret,  that  he  could  not  ask  my  assistance  on  the  ensuing  day, — Sun- 
day,— as  there  were  so  many  individuals,  who  would  be  offended.  My 
friend  was  astonished.  I  was  not.  My  friend  observed,  there  was 
but  one  in  the  congregation,  who  was  opposed  to  my  preaching  in  their 
meeting-house ;  and,  he  added,  if  I  did  not  preach,  the  people  would  be 
greatly  disappointed.  The  Doctor  would  not  hear  him,  and  we  parted, 
without  my  receiving  even  an  invitation  to  repeat  my  call.  My  guile- 
less host  expressed  great  surprise.  "  So  good  a  man  as  the  Doctor  ; 
why,  I  imagined,  he  would  have  taken  you  into  his  arms,  and  never,  if 
he  could  help  it,  have  permitted  you  to  lodge  any  where,  but  under  his 
roof."  From  this  moment,  I  had  much  to  grieve  me  in  Newport,  for, 
although  my  friends  were  numerous,  and  my  enemies  but  few,  yet  those 
few  were  uncommonly  industrious. 

On  Monday  morning,  one  of  the  committee,  who  had  first  engaged 
me  to  preach,  called  upon  me  at  my  lodgings ;  and  informed  me,  there 
came,  on  Saturday  night,  from  New- York,  a  Reverend  divine,  who  had 
given  me  a  most  horrid  character  ;  he  had  said  many  things,  which  he 
hoped  and  believed  were  not  true.  Pray,  sir,  where  is  this  good  man  ? 
"  He  is,  sir,  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Rogers,  father  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Rog- 
ers." Will  you,  sir,  call  upon  this  gentleman  with  me  ?  "  Certainly, 
sir,  but  you  had  better  first  take  breakfast."  By  no  means,  I  may 
miss  him,  and  I  want  to  see  him  in  your  presence.  We  hurried  off 
immediately,  but  alas  !  he  had  left  town  at  break  of  day  ;  he  had  just 
cast  about  firebrands,  arrows,  and  death,  and  withdrawn  from  the  in- 
vestigation, upon  which  he  had  reason  to  calculate.  The  parade  was 
full  of  people  ;  the  reports  ran  like  wild  fire ;  fame  had  blown  the  trum- 
pet of  slander,  and,  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Rogers,  many  were  assembled. 
I  regretted,  that  the  Rev.  calumniator  had  flown  ;  I  wished  to  be  tried  in 
the  presence  of  the  people.  I  requested,  however,  that  they  would  ex- 
hibit the  charges,  that  had  been  lodged  against  me.  They  did  so,  and 
they  consisted  of  the  following  items  : — 1st,  I  had  formerly  laboured 
for  my  living  ;  2dly,  1  was  a  married  man  ;  3dly,  I  had  children  ; 
4thly,  I  had  been  a  stage  player ;  and  5thly,  I  had  sung  songs. 
Upon  which  I  observed  :  Perhaps  my  denial  of  these  charges  may 
answer  little  purpose  ;  yet,  as  in  the  presence  of  heaven,  you  will  allow 
me  to  say,  that,  although  I  have  made  some  unsuccessful  attempts  to 


JJFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  163 

obtain  an  honourable  competency,  yet  I  have,  alas !  and  it  is  with 
extreme  sorrow  I  make  the  declaration,  I  have,  in  this  world,  neither 
wife,  nor  child ;  I  solemnly  assure  you,  I  never  was  an  actor  upon  any 
stage ;  I  acknowledge  I  have  sung  songs,  I  was  once  pronounced  a 
good  singer ;  yet  I  do  not  recollect,  that  I  ever  sang  any  bad  songs,  in- 
deed I  have  been  so  long  out  of  the  habit  of  song-singing,  that  I  do 
not  remember  what  songs  I  have  sung.  I  do  not,  however,  admit,  that 
if  these  charges  could  be  substantiated,  they  ought  to  criminate  me.  It 
cannot  be  a  crime  to  labour ;  "  Six  days  shall  thou  labour"  The 
apostle  Paul  laboured  with  his  own  hands.  Many  of  you  are  married 
men  ;  many  of  you  have  children  ;  many,  in  pursuit  of  business,  quit 
for  a  season  both  wives  and  children  ;  and  if  I  had  relinquished  the 
stage  for  the  life  of  a  Religionist,  it  should  be  considered  as  a  testimo- 
ny in  my  favour.  With  regard  to  song-singing,  while  music  makes  a 
part,  even  of  divine  worship,  a  sentimental  song  could  not  be  supposed 
detrimental  to  the  interests  of  morality.  I  requested  to  know,  if  there 
were  any  other  charges  ;  and  was  answered  with  a  murmur  of  applause, 
"  NONE, SIR,  NONE."  The  tide  now  turned  in  my  favour,  and  the  peo- 
ple were  astonished,  that  they  had  annexed  the  smallest  consequence  to 
those  reports. 

I  had  now  in  Newport  a  very  respectable  circle  of  friends,  and  the 
occurrence,  thus  briefly  recorded,  augmented  their  affectionate  attentions. 
As  a  testimony  how  little  they  regarded  it,  they  made  a  party  to  go 
out  in  a  number  of  carriages,  and  pass  the  day  upon  the  island  ;  and 
most  delightfully  did  we  enjoy  ourselves.  We  left  town  in  the  midst 
of  the  tumult ;  but  those,  who  were  present  at  the  examination,  mingling 
with  their  fellow  citizens,  gave  them  an  account  of  what  had  passed, 
and  it  was  generally  considered,  as  a  plan  to  bar  their  pulpit  against  me  - 
this  irritated  them,  and  they  determined  it  should  not  succeed.  They 
dispatched  a  message  to  me  ;  I  could  not  be  found.  I  returned  in  the 

evening,  and  received,  by  the  sexton  of  Doctor  S 's  meeting,  an 

address,  signed  by  a  large  number  of  influential  characters,  earnestly 
requesting  I  would,  upon  that  evening, deliver  a  lecture.  I  consented; 
the  bell  announced  my  consent  ;  the  congregation  assembled,  and  the 
house  was  very  full.  I  selected  my  subject  from  Isaiah,  "  Who  hath 
believed  our  report."  I  was  divinely  supported ;  my  heart  was  very 
full ;  gratitude  glowed  in  my  bosom,  gratitude  to  that  Being,  who  had 
upon  this,  as  well  as  upon  many  former  occasions,  so  conspicuously  ap- 
peared for  me. 

Among  other  valuable  acquisitions,  whic.h  crowned  my  labours  in 
Newport,  was  the  friendship  of  Mr.  afterwards  General  Varnum,  who 


104  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

gave-rme,  upon  the  succeeding  morning,  a  letter  to  Mr.  N.  Brown,  of 
Providence,  for  which  place  I  departed.  Mr.  Brown  received  me 
with  much  civility,  and  distinguished  me  by  many  acts  of  kindness. 
The  Rev.  Mr.  Snow's  meeting-house  was  thrown  open  ;  the  congrega- 
tions in  Providence  were  large,  I  acquired  many  respectable  friends,  and 
my  visit  was  truly  pleasing.  I  contemplated  extending  my  tour  as  far 
as  Boston,  but  the  season  being  far  advanced,  I  postponed  my  purpose, 
and  hastened  back  to  my  pleasant  home.  Visiting  my  friends  upon 
the  road,  I  did  not  reach  the  dwelling  of  my  patron,  until  the  winter 
was  at  the  door.  This  enduring  friend  began  to  fear  he  should  even- 
tually lose  me  ;  and  in  truth  the  pressing  calls,  made  upon  me,  allowed 
me  but  little  leisure  to  tarry  with  him.  In  the  course  of  this  winter,  I 
made  many  visits  ;  but  my  little  stock  of  money  was  nearly  exhausted. 
Had  I  consented  to  the  mode  of  collecting,  then  in  practice,  such  was 
the  zeal  of  my  hearers,  that  I  might  have  amassed  large  sums  ;  but  I 
had  no  faniily,  I  did  not  want  money,  I  believed  I  should  be  less  ob- 
noxious as  a  preacher,  if  I  levied  no  taxes  upon  the  people  ;  and  I  was 
ambitious  of  being  able  to  ask,  Whose  ox,  or  whose  ass  have  I  taken  '? 
Still,  as  I  proceeded,  the  rancour  of  the  clergy  pursued  me  ;  this  pained 
me  to  the  soul,  and  I  have  passed  many  agonized  hours,  originating 
from  this  inveterate  source.  I,  however,  veiled  those  scenes  of  sorrow 
from  the  eye  of  the  many  ;  in  fact,  when  engaged  in  conversation,  I  so 
unreservedly  enjoyed  my  friends,  that  I  ceased,  for  the  time  being,  to  re- 
flect upon  my  enemies  or  their  enmity.  I  never  left  home,  without  in- 
creasing both  the  number  of  my  friends  and  my  enemies  ;  and  they 
were,  individually  and  collectively,  very  much  in  earnest,  while  every  at- 
tempt to  oppose  the  progress  of  truth  became,  in  the  hand  of  God,  sub- 
servient to  the  purpose  of  opening  the  eyes  of  the  people. 

I  think  it  was  in  the  January  of  1773,  that  a  most  importunate  so- 
licitation drew  me  to  Philadelphia  ;  and,  having  frequently  visited  that 
city,  I  had  many  opportunities  with  strangers,  collected  there.  Many 
bore  with  them  to  their  respective  homes,  such  an  account  of  my  doc- 
trine and  my  manner,  as  excited  much  curiosity.  I  was  repeatedly  and 
earnestly  urged  to  proceed  to  Maryland  ;  an  eminent  physician,  by  re- 
peated letters,  reiterated  his  solicitations.  A  sense  of  duty  imrterious- 
ly  insisted,  upon  my  accepting  every  invitation  of  the  kind,  to  the  ex- 
tent of  my  power,  and  I  consequently  determined  upon  an  immediate 
commencement  of  my  journey  to  Maryland  ;  accordingly  my  horse 
was  produced  at  the  door,  when  it  occurred  to  me,  that  I  had  no  money. 
Well,  and  what  then?  said  I.  "You  will  not  think  of  a  journey  in  such 


tlFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  165 

circumstances  ?"  said  cold-hearted  Prudence.  I  certainly  will.  "  But 
how  are  you  to  get  through  a  strange  country,  in  which  you  have  no 
acquainttuiee  ?"  For  shame,  is  this  a  time  for  these  remarks  ?  Do 
you  not  know,  that  God  Almighty  can,  at  all  times,  and  in  every  place, 
open  the  heart ;  and  that, if  He  be  disposed  to  do  any  thing  with  me,  or 
by  me,  he  will  most  assuredly  bring  me  on  my  way  ?  "  But  had  you 
not  better  let  your  friends  in  this  city  know  your  circumstances  ?  They 
will  unquestionably  make  provision  for  you.1'  But  this  would  be  lean- 
ing upon  an  arm  of  flesh  ;  it  would  be  making  provision  for  myself. 
"  What  will  you  do  at  the  first  stage  ?  you  will  not  be  able  to  pur- 
chase any  thing,  either  for  yourself,  or  your  horse."  If  I  meet  with  no 
support,  I  will  return  immediately  ;  by  this  I  shall  know,  if  it  be  the 
will  of  God  I  should  proceed.  "  And  will  you  really  go  on  in  this 
way  ?"  Most  assuredly,  and  I  was  on  the  point  of  mounting  my 
horse,  when  a  gentleman  crossed  the  street.  "  Are  you  going  out  of 
town,  sir  ?"  Yes,  sir.  "  How  far,  pray,  and  which  way  ?"  To  Ma- 
ryland, sir,  to  visit  a  place,  which,  as  I  am  told,  is  eighty  miles  from 
this  city.  "  Are  you  going  alone,  sir  ?"  I  am,  sir.  "  I  wish  I  had 
known  of  your  determination  one  hour  since,  I  would  certainly  have 
accompanied  you  part  of  the  way."  Well  sir,  you  can  do  that  now  ; 
if  you  please,  I  will  wait  an  hour.  "  Will  you  ?  then  I  will  get  ready 
as  soon  as  possible."  The  gentleman  was  punctual  ;  in  less  than  an 
hour  he  was  on  horseback  ;  and  we  commenced  our  journey  together. 
We  passed  on  to  Chester,  delighted  with  our  ride,  and  dined  luxuriant- 
ly, at  one  of  the  best  inns  in  the  country.  Here  I  expected  my  fellow 
traveller  would  quit  me;  and  prudence  again  questioned  :  "  Will  you  not 
either  return,  or  make  known  your  situation  '?"  I  will  do  neither;  I  will 
trust  in  the  Lord,  and  stay  upon  the  God  of  my  salvation.  Our  horses 
were  ordered  out,  again  we  proceeded  together,  and  our  conversation 
was  interesting,  animated,  delightful.  In  the  middle  of  the  afternoon, 
we  made  a  second  stage  ;  here,  said  my  companion,  I  had  determin- 
ed to  leave  you,  but  I  find  I  am  not  able,  I  must  proceed.  Wo  went 
on  until  evening,  when  we  put  up  at  the  house  of  a  friend  of  my  fellow 
traveller,  in  Newark.  This  town  contained  an  academy,  in  the  hall 
of  which  I  afterwards  preached.  We  spent  the  night  most  agreeably, 
and  although  I  expected  to  pursue  the  residue  of  my  journey  alone, 
my  slumbers  were  unbroken  through  the  night,  and  I  arose  happy  in. 
the  thought,  that  I  was  enabled  to  cast  my  care  upon  God. 

Here  my  friend,  after  commending  me  to  the  protection  of  Heaven. 
bade  me  adieu.     I  tarried  until  breakfast  \\  as  [over,  when  I  requested 


1G6  L1FB  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

my  horse  :  it  was  brought  to  the  door.     I  took  the  bridle  in  my  hand. 
Prudence  again  was  ready  with  her  expostulations  :  "  Well,  and  what 
are  you  to  do  now  ?  you  have  been  thus  far  brought  on  by  an  obliging 
friend  ;  you  have  fifty  miles  more  to.  ride,  through  a  country,  not  an  in- 
dividual in  which  you  have  ever  seen,  and  you  have  not  a  penny  in 
your  pocket"     Again,  I  say,  am  I  not  here,  as  in  Philadelphia,  under 
the  care  of  that  beneficent  Being,  who  holds  the  universe  in  His  hand  ? 
I  will  go  on.     Just  as  I  raised  my  foot  to  the  stirrup,  the  master  of  the 
house  appeared.     "  One  word,  sir,  if  you  please,  step  in  for  a  moment." 
I  once  more  entered  the  hospitable  dwelling.  "  You  will,  I  hope,  excuse 
me,  sir;  but,  ever  since  I  left  my  bed  this  morning,  I  have  been  strongly 
excited  to  do,  what  however  I  am  afraid  to  mention,  and  what  I  had 
concluded  I  would  not  venture  to  do.     But  when  I  saw  you  in  the  act 
of  mounting  your  horse,  I  could  no  longer  withstand  an  irresistible  im- 
pression, which  impels  me  to  ask  your  acceptance  of  this  trifle  :" — put- 
ting into  my  hands  abundantly  sufficient  to  bring  me  to  the  end  of  my  jour- 
ney.   "  You  may  not  want  this,  sir  ;  but  you  may  meet  with  some  indi- 
vidual, who  does."     Could  my  spirit,  at  this  moment,  forbear  ecstatic 
prostration  before  the  throne  of  my  God,  my  Father  ?    This  was  mani- 
festly another  instance  of  the  interposition  of  my  Divine  Master.     It 
was  He,  who  has  the  hearts  of  all  in  His  hand,  that  had  thus  disposed 
the  heart  of  this  man.     I  could  not  forbear  felicitating  him  on  being  ap- 
pointed to  distribute.     I  communicated  to  him  my  real  circumstances, 
while  tears  of  pleasure  gushed  into  his  eyes.     He  would  then  have  made 
an  addition  to  the  gratuity ;  but  this  I  resolutely  refused  :  I  had  enough 
for  my  present  purpose,  and  more  than  enough  would  have  been  bur- 
densome.    I  went  on  from  this  place,  with  inexpressible  delight,   my 
soul  warmly  disposed  to  magnify   the   Lord,  and  to  trust   Him   at  all 
times,  not  being  afraid.     My  faith,  by  these  manifestations  thus  invigo- 
rated and  renewed,  I  rejoiced  in  the  good  pleasure  of  my  God;  my  way 
was  made  clear  before  me,  and   I  nothing  doubted,  that  my  journey 
would  be  crowned  with  success.     This  day  was  indeed  a  happy  day, 
I  shall  certainly  never,  so  long  as  memory  shall  continue  its  office,  recur 
to  it  without  the  most  pleasurable  emotions. 

Upon  the  evening  of  this  memorable  day,  I  arrived  at  the  end  of  my 
journey,  and  I  was  received  by  the  physician,  whose  letter  of  earnest  so- 
licitation had  brought  me  thus  far,  -with  many  demonstrations  of  joy.  I 
was,  however,  greatly  surprised,  to  find  a  person,  who  I  understood  was 
master  of  a  large  fortune,  plain,  if  not  penurious,  both  in  his  house,  fur- 
niture, and  apparel ;  but,  if  I  was  disappointed  by  the  appearance  of  the 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  167 

man  and  his  dwelling,  I  was  abundantly  more  so,  by  his  conversation, 
from  which  I  learned,  that  he  had  been  imposed  upon  by  the  accounts 
he  had  received  of  me  ;  he  had  been  made  to  believe  I  was,  for  matter 
and  manner,  a  second  Whitefield.  My  heart  sunk,  as  T  reflected  what 
I  had  to  expect,  from  a  gentleman  thus  circumstanced.  I  beheld  before 
me  a  self-righteous  Calvinist ;  and  I  believed,  when  he  discovered  (as  I 
was  determined  he  immediately  should)  ^he  amount  of  my  testimony, 
he  would  sincerely  repent,  that  he  had  summoned  me  to  his  abode,  and 
that  I  should,  in  consequence,  have  much-io  suffer.  The  house  afforded 
no  spare  bed,  and,  of  course,  I  lodged,  I  cannot  say  slept  with  my  host. 
The  whole  night  was  devoted  to  conversation,  and  I  embraced  the  first 
pause  to  inform  him,  that  I  once  viewed  the  Deity,  and  the  creature  man, 
precisely  as  they  now  appeared  to  him  ;  but  that  a  complete  revolution 
had  been  wrought  in  my  mind.  Sir,  I  once  believed  the  faithful  Crea- 
tor had  called  into  existence  by  far  the  greatest  number  of  human  beings, 
with  no  other  intention,  than  to  consign  them  to  endless  misery,  rescuing 
only  a  few  respected  persons,  from  a  state  of  sin  and  suffering.  You 
will,  my  dear  sir,  probably  regret  that  you  have  invited  me  hither,  when 
I  inform  you,  that  the  Christ,  in  whom  I  trust,  and  the  gospel,  which  I 
preach,  is  not  the  Christ,  of  whom  you  expected  to  hear,  nor  the  gospel, 
you  supposed  I  should  preach.  The  Christ,  in  whom  I  formerly  con- 
fided, was  a  partial  Saviour  ;  but  the  Christ,  in  whom  I  now  trust,  is 
the  Saviour  of  the  world.  The  gospel,  you  have  been  accustomed  to  hear, 
and  which  you  expected  I  should  preach,  is  a  partial  gospel,  conveying 
the  glad  tidings  of  eternal  life  in  Christ  Jesus,  only  to  an  elected  few. 
The  gospel,  I  preach,  is  glad  tidings  to  every  individual  of  the  human 
race;  assuring  them  that,  in  Christ,  the  promised  seed,  all  the  nations, all 
the  families  of  the  earth  shall  be  blessed.  I  fear,  sir,  that,  not  being  ac- 
customed to  the  ministry  of  the  reconciliation,  committed  to  the  apostles, 
to  wit,  that  God  was  in  Christ  reconciling  the  world  unto  Himself,  not 
imputing  unto  them  their  trespasses  ;  that,  when  all  mankind  like  sheep 
had  gone  astray,  the  Lord,  the  offended  God,  laid  upon  Jesus  the  iniqui- 
ties of  us  all,  that  he  might  put  them  away  by  the  sacrifice  of  himself, 
that  they  might  thus,  as  a  mill-stone,  be  cast  into  the  depths  of  the  sea. 
and  be  found  no  more  at  all  ;  that  Jesus,  thus  performing  the  will  of 
God,  the  world  may  ultimately  behold  him  in  his  true  character,  as  the 
Lamb  of  God,  who  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world  ;  thus  becoming 
the  Saviour  of  all  men, — not  in,  but  from  their  sins.  I  fear,  my  good 
sir,  that  when  you  hear  me  thus  preaching  the  gospel,  which  God  him- 
self preached  to  Abraham,  and  which  ne  testified  by  the  mouth  of  al! 


168  LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

his  holy  prophets  ever  since  the  world  began,  your  disappointment  will 
be  grievous.  I  know,  sir,  you  have  not  been  accustomed  to  hear  of 
Universal  Love,  of  boundless  compassion  ;  and  these  sounds  may  make 
you  as  angry,  as  they  have  made  many  of  our  brethren  in  every  age. 
Hero  I  made  a  full  pause,  continuing  for  a  few  moments  in  painful  sus- 
pense. I  was,  however,  soon  relieved.  "  No,  sir,  you  have  nothing  to 
fear  from  me;  for  although  the  things,  of  which  you  speak,  have  never  en- 
tered into  my  head  or  heart,  yet,  give  me  leave  to  assure  you,  it  will  ne- 
ver give  me  pain  to  know,  that  God's  ways  are  not  as  my  ways,  nor  his 
thoughts  as  my  thoughts.  My  mind  is  so  far  from  revolting  at  the  ti- 
dings you  bear,  that  nothing  would  give  me  more  unutterable  joy,  than 
to  be  assured  of  their  truth."  Thus  was  my  mind  exonerated  from  a 
weight  of  dread  apprehension.  I  asked  him,  what  assurance  he  could 
either  wish  for,  or  expect  ?  "  Nothing  more  than  a  '  Thus  saith  the 
Lord.'  "  I  continued,  through  the  residue  of  the  night,  preaching  the 
gospel,  according  to  the  scriptures  ;  and  it  pleased  Almighty  God  so  to 
furnish  my  mind  with  testimonies,  drawn  from  the  sacred  volume,  that  I 
went  on,  from  Genesis  to  Revelations,  until  the  morning  dawned  upon 
us.  But  a  brighter  morning  dawned  upon  the  long-benighted  mind  of 
my  wondering  hearer  ;  he  exhibited,  what  he  said  he  experienced,  rap- 
ture before  unknown.  He  was,indeed,  as  one,  brought  out  of  darkness, 
into  marvellous  light,  and  from  the  power  of  satan,  unto  God.  I  never 
before  saw  so  great  a  change,  wrought  in  so  short  a  time.  He  gave  me 
a  sketch  of  his  life,  which  had  been  employed  in  seeking  to  accumulate 
riches,  and  righteousness.  The  former  he  had  gained,  but  the  latter  he 
had  not  ;  and  he  was  constrained  to  confess,  that  if  the  wealth,  he  had 
taken  such  unwearied  pains  to  obtain,  and  to  keep,  were  no  better  in  the 
sight  of  man,  than  his  righteousness  was  in  his  own  estimation,  and  in 
the  estimation  of  his  God,  he  had  been  all  his  life  labouring  in  vain,  and 
spending  his  strength  for  naught.  By  commerce,  and  the  practice  of 
physic,  the  Doctor  had  acquired  a  fortune  of  forty  thousand  pounds 
sterling  ;  yet  from  the  appearance  of  the  man,  we  should  have  conclud- 
ed his  resources  extremely  limited.  His  offspring  were  only  one  son, 
and  one  daughter  ;  his  wife  was  no  more ;  his  son  a  prodigal  ;  his 
daughter  a  married  woman,  in  eligible  circumstances,  and  of  a  most 
amiable  character.  The  Doctor  was  far  advanced  in  life,  and  although 
he  had  been  uniformly  employed  in  getting  and  hiding  money,  yet  he 
was  so  religious  a  man,  as  to  part  with  four  hundred  pounds  sterling 
toward  building  a  meeting-house  ;  and  he  was  greatly  mortified,  at  not 
being  able  to  obtain  permission  for  me  to  preach  therein,  though  he 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  169 

went  so  far,  as  to  assure  those,  who  had  the  care  of  the  house,  that  he 
would  put  it  in  complete  repair,  if  he  might  be  indulged  with  the  plea- 
sure of  hearing  who  he  pleased  in  the  pulpit,  when  it  was  not  otherwise 
occupied.  But  the  Presbytery  had  given  orders,  that  no  person  should 
be  admitted,  into  any  of  their  meetings,  without  a  letter  of  licence,  first 
had  and  obtained  from  that  body.  "  So,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  let  God 
send,  by  whom  He  will  send,  the  sent  of  God  can  obtain  no  admis- 
sion ;  but  those,  whom  the  Presbytery  think  proper  to  send,  must  be 
admitted  every  where  !  Is  not  this  rank  priestcraft  ?"  But  although 
the  doors  of  every  house  of  worship,  in  that  neighbourhood,  were  shut 
against  us,  many  private  houses  were  devoted  to  us,  and  the  Doctor 
was  indefatigable  in  striving  to  spread  abroad  the  savour  of  the  Redeem- 
er's name.  His  soul  was  so  highly  wrought,  by  the  discoveries  he  had 
made,  that  he  most  ardently  desired  to  make  all  men  acquainted  with 
the  grace,  in  which  they  stood. 

The  Doctor  was  a  man  of  uncommon  abilities  ;  his  mind  was  high* 
ly  cultivated  ;  I  never  knew  a  finer  speaker.  He  was  well  acquainted 
with  the  religion  of  the  world,  and,  possessing  a  happy  facility  of  man- 
ifesting his  knowledge,  when  it  pleased  God  to  show  him  his  salvation, 
— when  he  had  power  given  him  to  believe  with  his  heart  the  word  of 
God,  which  giveth  life  unto  all  men, — from  the  abundance  of  his  be- 
lieving heart,  his  mouth  became  full  of  the  praises  of  his  God  ;  and 
wherever  he  went,  so  often  as  opportunity  offered,  he  delighted  to 
magnify  the  name  of  the  Redeemer  :  spreading  far,  and  wide,  to  the 
utmost  of  his  abilities,  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  the  glad  tidings  of  the 
gospel.  Every  body,  who  knew  the  man,  was  astonished  ;  for,  strange 
to  tell,  he  became  liberal  ;  liberal  of  that,  with  which  he  had  heretofore 
found  it  so  difficult  to  part  ;  he  could  part  with  his  money  ;  and,  among 
numerous  instances  of  his  generosity,  I  myself  wras  an  example.  He 
saw  my  vestments  were  rather  worn,  they  could  not  last  always,  and  he 
ordered  me  a  complete  suit  of  superfine  broadcloth.  I  looked  at  the 
Doctor,  at  his  garments,  much  worse  than  mine.  I  am  really  astonished, 
said  I.  "  Not  more  than  I  am  myself,  sir.  I  have  for  a  whole  year 
been  perfectly  aware,  that  I  wanted  raiment,  yet  I  could  not  find  it  in 
my  heart  to  purchase  even  those  articles  of  which  I  stood  in  most 
need  ;  but,  sir,  I  do  indeed  behold  my  former  self  with  detestation. 
I  continued  with  the  Doctor  for  several  weeks  ;  he  accompanied  me 
from  place  to  place,  enjoying  abundantly  more,  than  the  world  could 
give,  or  take  away  ;  and  his  numerous  connexions  were  partakers  of 
his  felicity.  For  myself  I  had  rich  6pportunities  of  preaching  the  gos- 


170  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

pel  of  the  kingdom,  and  my  pleasures  were  proportioned  to  the  satis- 
faction, which  I  was  instrumental  in  communicating.  But  it 
became  necessary  I.  should  return  to  Philadelphia,  and  the  Doctor  was 
exceedingly  affected  ;  yet,  previous  to  my  final  departure,  I  had  en- 
gaged to  preach  at  an  Episcopalian  church,  at  some  distance,  where  it 
was  believed  a  large  concourse  of  people  would  be  assembled.  But 
on  Saturday  evening,  the  wind  being  north-west,  brought  on  so  se- 
vere a  frost,  that  the  ensuing  day,  Sunday,  February  14th,  1773,  was 
by  far  the  coldest  day  I  had  ever  experienced.  I  was  however  deter- 
mined to  keep  my  appointment,  and  I  rode  six  miles  on  horseback, 
accompanied  by  a  gentleman,  who  had  conceived  for  me  the  strongest 
affection,  and  we  derived  so  much  pleasure,  from  the  divine  subjects, 
which  engaged  our  attention,  that  we  hardly  adverted  either  to  the  se- 
verity of  the  day,  or  the  distance  ;  and  my  fellow  traveller,  in  the  ful- 
ness of  his  heart,  declared,  did  it  depend  upon  him,  we  would  ride  on 
till  the  close  of  time,  and  then  leap  into  eternity  together.  The  cold, 
how£^*r,  was  sufficiently  piercing  to  compel  us  to  assemble  in  the 
school-house,  instead  of  the  church,  where  a  large  chimney,  and  a 
blazing  hearth,  hardly  kept  us  from  freezing  ;  yet  was  my  own  heart, 
and  the  hearts  of  many  of  my  hearers,  warmed  by  that  fire  of  divine 
love,  enkindled  by  the  word,  and  spirit  of  our  God  ;  wrhich  spirit  gra- 
ciously vouchsafed  to  take  of  the  things  of  Jesus,  and  show  them  unto 
us,  giving  us  not  only  peace,  but  joy,  unspeakable  joy,  in  believ'ng. 
I  proposed  departing  for  Philadelphia,  on  the  following  Monday  ;  but 
the  Doctor,  and  his  friends,  prevailed  upon  me  to  tarry  a  day  or  two 
longer,  in  which  time  he  laboured  hard  to  persuade  me  to  continue 
with  him.  "  Only,"  said  he,  "  consent  to  abide  here,  and  I  will  very 
cheerfully  build  for  you  as  handsome  a  church,  as  any  in  the  country, 
and  it  shall  be  your  own.  I  will  devote  ten,  of  the  forty  thousand 
pounds,  which  I  possess, to  this  purpose*  I  thanked  him,  most  cordial- 
ly, for  his  nattering  offer  ;  but  added,  that  the  tender  of  his  whole  es- 
tate would  be  no  temptation  to  me  to  accept  a  permanent  residence. 
My  mind  was,  at  that  time,  solemnly  impressed  by  a  conviction,  that  I 
was  sent  out  to  preach  the  gospel ;  and  that,  as  the  servant  of  God,  I 
must  neither  loiter  by  the  way,  nor  seek  to  evade  the  spirit  of  my  com- 
mission. An  imposing  sense  of  duty  compelled  me  to  say,  that,  so 
long  as  I  was  able,  I  would  submit  to  the  will  of  my  Master.  Upon 
the  night  previous  to  my  departure,  we  had  little  sleep.  We  expatia- 
ted with  pleasing  wonder  upon  the  mysterious  ways  of  heaven,  and  we 
pouix'd  out  our  souls  in  prayer  to  that  God,  who,  having  brought  us 


LIFE  OF  REV,  JOHN  MURRAY.  171 

together,  had  caused  us  to  drink  into  one  spirit.  The  morning  came, 
when,  after  commending  ourselves  to  God,  and  to  the  word  of  his  grace, 
I  was  on  the  point  of  departing,  in  the  same  manner  I  had  left  Phila- 
delphia, yet,  without  even  the  vestige  of  apprehension.  But  the  Doc- 
tor, taking  me  by  the  hand,  essayed  to  articulate  ;  but  was  necessitated 
to  pause  for  self-possession,  when  he  said :  "  God  forever  bless  you,  and 
be  with  you  ;  and  wherever  you  go,  make  your  way  plain  before  you  ; 
and,  if  we  never  meet  again  in  this  world,  (for  I  am  an  old  man  you 
know)  I  rejoice  in  the  assurance,  that  we  shall  meet  in  the  presence  of 
God,  our  Saviour,  and  spend  an  eternity  together."  He  then  put  into 
my  hand  gold  sufficient,  abundantly  sufficient,  to  bear  my  expenses 
even  to  the  dwelling  of  my  patron.  "  You  may  want  this  upon  the 
road,"  said  he,  "  take  it  as  a  memento  of  friendship."  I  am,  dear  sir, 
amazed  at  your  liberality.  "  I  also  am  amazed — It  is  the  Lord's  do- 
ings, and  truly,  it  is  marvellous  in  my  eyes."  Thus  closed  my  visit 
to  my  worthy  friend,  after  I  had  promised,  that,  if  it  should  so  please 
God,  I  would  cheerfully  visit  him  again. 

On  my  return,  being  earnestly  solicited,  I  preached  in  the  hall  of 
the  academy  at  Newark  ;  and  I  once  more  reposed  under  the  roof  of 
that  hospitable  man,  who  was  made  the  instrument  of  administering  to 
my  necessities,  on  my  way.  At  Wilmington  too,  I  delivered  my  mes- 
sage ;  and  elevated  by  an  excursion,  which  had  been  so  greatly  blessed, 
I  returned  to  Philadelphia  in  perfect  health,  and  high  spirits.  During 
the  residue  of  the  spring,  the  whole  of  the  succeeding  summer,  and  a 
part  of  the  autumn,  until  October  1773,  my  time  was  divided  between 
Pennsylvania,  the  Jersies,  and  New- York.  My  friends  were  to  be 
found  among  every  class  of  people,  from  the  highest  to  the  most  hum- 
ble, and  almost  every  day  increased  the  number,  both  of  my  friends, 
and  enemies.  The  clergy  continued  a  phalanx  of  opposition.  One 
good  man  stumbled  upon  a  most  ingenious  device.  A  Mr.  Still,  a 
Baptist  priest,  wrote  a  most  elaborate  letter,  in  which  he  charged  me 
with  many  crimes,  assuming  as  facts,  those  reported  crimes,  whioh  my 
soul  abhorred.  This  letter  he  read  in  every  company,  in  which  he 
mixed  ;  sent  copies  of  it  to  New-England,  and  various  other  parts  of 
the  country  ;  giving  those,  to  whom  he  made  his  communications,  to 
understand,  that  he  had  forwarded  this  letter  to  me,  although  I  never 
saw  it,  and  was  indebted  for  an  account  of  its  contents,  to  some  wor- 
thy individuals,  who  were  among  the  number  of  those,  to  whom  it  was 
read.  Thus  did  this  man  industriously  essay  to  prejudice  the  minds 
of  the  people,  trusting  that  their  hiftred  of  me,  and  my  testimony. 


172  UFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

would,  if  possible,  be  commensurate  with  his  own  ;  and  thus,  at  his  right- 
eous tribunal,  I  was  tried,  and  condemned,  and,  as  far  as  he  could  prevail, 
executed,  without  being  suffered  to  plead  in  my  own  defence,  or  even 
furnished  with  a  copy  of  the  allegations  against  me.  Had  I  not  reason 
to  supplicate  :  Grant  me,  O  my  God  !  patient  resignation,  and  the  di- 
vine light  of  thy  countenance.  Yet  the  character,  priest,  and  adversa- 
ry, did  not  always  prove  synonimous  :  A  clergyman,  upon  a  memora- 
ble evening,  entered  a  house  of  public  worship,  in  which  I  was  pro- 
mulgating The  Truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus.  He  presented  himself  with  a 
determination  to  oppose  me  ;  but,  quitting  the  church,  and  entering  my 
lodgings,  he  folded  me  in  his  arms,  exclaiming  (while  his  eye  glistened 
with  pleasure,)  "  If  this  be  heresy,  may  I  so  worship  the  God  of  my 
fathers,  during  the  residue  of  my  days."  Nor  was  this  a  solitary  in- 
stance ;  Mr.  Duchee,  minister  of  the  established  church  of  Philadelphia, 
Mr.  Tretard,  of  New-Rochelle,  Mr.  Gano,  of  New- York,  Mr.  Tyler, 
Episcopalian  minister  of  Norwich,  were  among  the  number  of  those, 
who,  if  they  were  not  fully  with  me  in  sentiment,  have  uniformly  dis- 
charged toward  me  the  duty  of  Christian  friends.  My  opportunities  of 
observing  uncommon  characters  were  multiplied.  I  regret,  that  the 
limits,  I  have  prescribed  to  myself,  will  not  permit  me  to  dwell  upon 
the  life  and  virtues  of  Thomas  Say,  of  Philadelphia  ;  a  man,  who,  it 
may  be  said,  re-visited  this  world,  after  being  privileged  with  more  than 
a  bird's-eye  view  of  another.  Anthony  Benezet  might  also  claim  many 
pages.  Christopher  Marshall  ;  the  celebrated  Mrs.  Wright,  and  her 
uncommon  family  •  many  shades  of  departed  friends  flit  before  me,  but 
I  must  hasten  from  the  now-beatified  group,  and  pursue  the  sometimes 
rugged  path,  over  which  the  journey  of  life  hath  conducted  me. 

Upon  the  10th  of  October,  1773,  I  embarked  on  board  the  Hum- 
Bird,  captain  Lawton,  for  Newport,  which  place  we  reached  at 
early  breakfast,  and  where  I  was  received  in  a  manner  comporting 
with  my  most  sanguine  wishes.  Belcher,  Warner,  Otis,  Newton, 
Wright,  Wanton,  Waterhouse,  Ellery,  &c.  &c.  these  all  received  me 
with  open  arms  ;  but  having  reason  to  believe,  much  confusion  would 
result,  from  an  attempt  to  open  the  doors  of  the  meeting-house,  in  which 

Dr.  S officiated,  I  sent  the  Doctor  an  assurance,  that  I  would  no 

more  enter  his  pulpit.  The  Governour  granted  the  state-house  to  the 
solicitations  of  my  friends,  and  became  himself  one  of  my  audience. 
I  preached  also  in  the  meeting-house  of  Mr.  Kelly,  and  at  the  prison. 
The  congregations  were  crowded,  and  attentive.  Newport  contains  a 
synagogue,  and  the  many  Jews,  collected  there,  pressed  to  hear.  Mr. 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  373 

Lopez,  an  opulent  gentleman  among  the  Jews,  celebrated  as  well  for 
humanity,  as  for  mercantile  knowledge,  met  me  at  the  door  of  the  state- 
house,  and,  pressing  my  hand,  said  :  "  God  Almighty  be  with  you,  sir. 
and  bless  and  preserve  you  wherever  you  go,  giving  you  good  success 
always."  He  w<jkuld  have  added  ;  but  his  overflowing  heart  evidently 
denied  him  utterance.  The  Jews  were  generally  pleased.  They  de- 
clared, they  had  never  before  heard  so  much  in  favour  of  Christianity. 
Poor  hearts  !  they  would  see  the  things,  which  belong  to  their  peace,  if 
the  appointed  time  of  the  Father  were  come  ;  in  this  their  day  they 
are  hidden  from  their  eyes  :  but  the  day  of  the  Lord  cometh,  when 
whatever  is  hidden  shall  be  revealed. 

I  was  solicited  to  take  up  my  abode  at  Newport,  and  assured,  if  I 
would  so  do,  a  place  of  public  worship  should  be  erected  for  my  accom- 
modation. These  good  people  learned,  that  I  had  been  necessitated  to 
part  with  my  horse,  for  the  purpose  of  defraying  the  expenses,  attendant 
upon  re-printing  specimens  of  apostolic  preaching,  selected  from  the 
writings  of  Mr.  Relly  ;  and  they  insisted  upon  purchasing  me  another. 
Nor  was  this  all  ;  they  helped  me  on  my  way,  contributing  abundant- 
ly, by  private  gratuities,  to  the  relief  of  my  necessities.  Mr.  Ward, 
secretary  to  the  then  province  of  Rhode- Island,  with  many  others, 
were,  upon  this  my  second  visit,  added  to  the  number  of  my  friends.  A. 

member  of  Dr.  S 's  church  informed  me,  it  v  js  affirmed,  I  had 

absolutely  said,  all  men  should  be  saved.  I  assured  him,  I  had  never 
said,  all  men  should  be  saved  ;  I  had  said,  Jesus  was  and  is  the  Sa- 
viour of  all  men  ;  and  that,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  he  would  gather  to- 
gether alt  things  into  ONE, — bringing  in  his  antient  people,  the  Jews, 
and  with  them  the  fulness  of  the  Gentiles, — causing  all  flesh  to  come 
and  worship  before  him, — and  making  of  Jew  and  Gentile  ONE  new 
man,  so  making  peace  ;  and  that  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world 
should  become  the  kingdoms  of  God  and  of  His  Christ.  I  publicly 
invited  any  individual  in  Newport,  who  had  aught  to  say  against  the 
testimony  I  delivered,  to  meet  me  in  an  open  manner,  the  bible  in  his 
hand  ;  and  if  the  arguments  he  should  produce  were  more  consistent 
with  the  sacred  writings,  I  would  upon  the  spot,  in  the  most  unreserved 
manner,  acknowledge  and  renounce  my  errors. 

Quitting  Newport,  I  took  passage  for  East-Greenwich.  A  fellow 
passenger  told  me,  he  had  been  informed  I  had  said :  Our  sins  were  laid 
upon  the  Devil ;  and  that  there  was  nothing  for  us  to  do  ;  and  lie 
wished  to  know,  if  I  believed  either  the  one  or  the  other  ?  Certainl) 
not,  I  replied  ;  it  was  not  the  Devil,  but  the  Redeemer,  on  whom  thr 

Y 


174  LIFE  OF  HEV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

Lord  laid  the  iniquities  of  us  all.  I  assured  him,  we  had  many  things 
in  our  various  characters  to  perform,  to  which  it  was  our  bounden  duty 
to  attend  ;  and  that  those,  who  continued  in  offences,  would  be  exper- 
imentally able  to  say,  "  Truly,  the  way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard  ;" 
for,  assuredly,  they  would  be  chastised  with  many  stripes.  My  appear- 
ance at  East-Greenwich  was  welcomed  by  Mr.  Varnum,  and  others. 
Several  gentlemen,  whom  I  had  not  before  known,  called  upon  me  at 
Mr.  Varnum's  ;  among  these  was  Dr.  Hawkins,  who  questioned  me, 
and  appeared  satisfied  with  iny  answers  ;  he  introduced  me  to  his 
friends,  Mr.  Green,  &c.  &c.  I  preached,  in  the  court-house,  to  a 
crowded  audience.  The  superior  court  was  then  in  session  ;  the  judges 
and  the  lawyers  were  among  my  hearers.  I  was  labouring  under  great 
indisposition,  but  God  was  with  me.  Esquire  Casey  took  me  to 
his  house,  where  I  was  met  by  judge  Potter  for  the  purpose  of  conver- 
sation. He  said,  he  had  never  been  pleased  with  pulpit  exhibitions, 
because  they  were  so  replete  with  contradictions,  and  he  was  determined 
to  sift  me  thoroughly.  We  passed  the  night  together  ;  he  performed 
what  he  had  proposed,  with  candour,  and  appeared  satisfied  with  the 
result.  At  parting,  he  earnestly  wished  me  success,  and  prayed  that  I 
might  be  preserved  from  the  power  of  the  priest,  and  the  flatterer.  This 
gentleman  continued  to  evince  great  affection  for  me  ;  he  seemed  to 
understand  and  ffcsrttt-ihe  power  of  the  gospel ; — I  had  not  seen  his  supe- 
rior. At  this  period,  I  was  desirous  of  extending  my  tour  as  far  as 
Boston  :  but,  notwithstanding  the  repeated  manifestations  of  divine 
protection,  with  which  I  had  been  favoured,  a  reluctance  to  venturing 
on  untried  scenes  was  gradually  pervading  my  spirit,  and  I  was  again 
ready  to  ask,  What  am  I  to  do  in  Boston  ?  Yet  I  added  :  O  ! 
my  unbelieving  heart,  who  shall  deliver  me  from  this  body  of 
sin  and  death  1  Blessed  be  God,  who  is  faithful.  Passing  an 
hour  at  Mrs.  Green's,  I  was  introduced  to  a  lady  from  Boston,  a  Mrs. 
Hubbard  ;  she  questioned  me  upon  the  doctrine  of  reprobation,  partic- 
ularly that  passage,  which  expressly  asserts,  "  Jacob  have  I  loved,  and 
Esau  have  I  hated."  My  answers  were  so  much  to  her  satisfaction, 
that  she  gave  me  a  pressing  invitation  to  her  house  in  Boston  ;  and  as 
I  contemplated  a  journey  thither,  she  prayed  me  to  take  a  letter  to  Mr. 
Hubbard,  and  to  make  his  dwelling  my  abode,  during  my  continuance 
in  the  metropolis  of  Massachusetts.  From  East-Greenwich  I  proceed- 
ed to  Pawtuxet,  delivering  my  message  in  their  house  of  worship  ;  and 
from  thence  I  repaired  to  Providence,  where  I  was  received  by  those, 
who  had  before  bade,  me  welcome,  with  continued  kindness.  Imme- 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  175 

diately  on  my  arrival,  a  summons  to  pass  the  evening  with  the  Rev*.  Mr. 
Snow  was  presented  me  ;  I  delayed  not  to  attend  him,  and  I  was  ac- 
companied by  Mr.  Binney,  a  young  gentleman  of  great  promise.  Mr. 
Snow's  parlour  was  nearly  filled  by  the  members  of  his  church  and  con- 
gregation. A  long  and  solemn  pause  succeeded  the  usual  ceremonies 
of  introduction  ;  Mr.  Snow  at  length  broke  silence  by  observing  : — 
"  We  are,  sir,  perfectly  aware,  that  by  far  the  greater  part  of  the  town 
are  anxious  to  hear  you  ;  and,  as  our  house  is  the  most  convenient,  we 
presume  application  will  be  made  for  its  use.  But,  since  you  were  last 
here,  a  few  of  our  members  have  heard  strange  reports  respecting  you  : 
(viz.)  That  you  believe  all  mankind  will  finally  be  saved  ;  and  that  the 
new  birth  is  not  in  us,  but  in  Christ.  I  have,  therefore,  thought  proper 
to  call  together  several  of  my  church,  that  they  may  have  an  opportuni- 
ty of  speaking  to  you,  and  determining  whether  they  think  proper  to 
open  their  doors.  Do  you,  sir,  believe  that  all  mankind  will  be  saved  ?" 
I  believe,  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Saviour  of  all  men  ;  that,  by  the  grace  of 
God,  he  tasted  death  for  every  man  ;  that  he  is  the  propitiation  for  tlif. 
sins  of  the  whole  world  ;  and  that  God  was,  in  Christ,  reconciling  the 
world  unto  Himself,  not  imputing  unto  them  their  trespasses.  "  Well, 
and  do  you  believe,  that,  all  are  saved  ?"  Not  as  unbelievers ;  they,  who 
believe  not,  are  damned.  "  How  then  are  they  interested  in  Jesus?" 
Precisely  as  they  were  in  the  first  Adam.  But  all  are  not  interested  in 
Jesus,  as  they  were  in  the  first  Adam."  How  then  doth  it  appear,  that 
as,  by  the  offence  of  one  man,  judgment  came  upon  all  men  to  condemna- 
tion, so  by  the  righteousness  of  one,  the  free  gift  came  upon  all  men  to 
justification  of  life  ?  "  And  do  you,  sir,  believe  that,  in  consequence 
of  this,  all  will  be  finally  happy  ?"  Do  you,  sir,  believe  all  who  learn 
of  the  Father  will  be  happy  ?  "  O  ye?."  And  do  you  believe  all  will 
be  taught  of  God,  and  come  to  Jesus,  and  be  saved  ?  "  No,  indeed." 
Do  ministers  in  general  believe  this  1  "  No,  we  know  they  do  not.7? 
Why  then  do  they  pray  for  it  ?  Do  they  not  pray,  that  God  would  has- 
ten the  happy  time,  when  he  shall  bring  in  his  antient  people,  the  Jews, 
and  with  them  the  fulness  of  the  Gentiles  ;  that  all  the  kingdoms  of  the 
world  may  become  the  kingdoms  of  God  and  of  His  Christ ;  that  they 
may  all  be  taught  of  God  from  the  least  unto  the  greatest  1  For  this,  and 
much  more,  clergymen  repeatedly  pray  :  and  can  we  suppose  they  are 
dealing  hypocritically  with  their  God  ?  are  they  such  monsters  of  impie- 
ty, as  to  solicit,  for  what,  they  believe  the  Almighty  had  determined,  be- 
fore the  foundation  of  the  world,  he  would  never  grant  ?  A  profound 
pause  succeeded  ;  after  which,  I  was  a«ked  :  "  Do  you,  sir,  believe  the 


176  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

New  Birth  is  in  us,  or  in  Christ  ?"  He,  who  is  born  of  God,  sinnetk 
not.  But  if  we  say,  we  have  no  sin,  we  deceive  ourselves,  and  the  truth 
is  not  in  us.  He,  who  is  born  of  God,  is  a  new  creature  ;  all  old  things 
are  passed  away,  and  all  things  are  become  new  :  a  good  man,  out  of 
the  good  treasury  of  his  heart,  bringeth  not  forth  good  and  evil,  but  good, 
only  good.  I  conceive,  therefore,  that  to  be  born  again,  or,  as  it  may  be 
rendered,  to  be  born  anew,  or  born  from  above,  alludes  to  the  birth  of 
the  human  family  in  the  person  of  Christ  Jesus,  we  being  members  of 
his  body.  Hence  the  sacred  record  decidedly  pronounces  :  Created 
anew  in  Christ  Jesus.  "  Well,  that  is  scripture,  to  be  sure."  Are  we 
Christ  Jesus  ?  *'  No,  certainly."  Then,  can  being  created  anew,  in 
Christ  Jesus,  be  understood  as  being  created  anew  in  ourselves  ?  A 
part  of  the  company  discovered  great  bitterness  ;  others  were  more  calm. 
I  requested  them  to  observe,  that,  if  they  reported  me  as  a  heretic,  they 
must  remember  they  smote  me  through  Paul's  skirts,  for  I  had  delivered 
no  sentiments  of  my  own  fabrication  ;  I  had  merely  rehearsed  in  their 
ears  the  unadulterated  language  of  revelation  :  I  therefore  begged,  I 
might  be  honestly  reported.  One  gentleman  declared,  that,  whether  I 
deemed  it  honest,  or  not,  he  should  report  me  as  a  heretic.  I  then  insis- 
ted, he  should  declare,  what  heresy  was.  He  said,  I  was  against  the  gos- 
pel. I  requested,  he  would  say,  what  gospel  was  ?  He  replied,  it  was 
whatever  was  found  in  the  new  testament.  I  appealed  to  the  company, 
whether  this  was  either  fair,  or  true  ?  whether  there  were  not  many 
particulars  in  the  new  testament,  which  were  not  gospel  ?  and  whether 
the  gospel  was  not  preached  to  Abraham  ?  or  whether  the  gospel  was 
not  God's  good  sayings,  or  glad  tidings  to  all  people  ?  Whether  I 
had  said  any  thing  contrary  to  this,  or  proposed  any  way  of  salvation, 
beside  Christ  Jesus?  or  whether  I  had  privily  strove  to  bring  in  such  a 
damnable  doctrine,  as  to  deny  the  Lord  who  bought  them  ?  They  were 
all  dumb.  At  length  Mr.  Snow  said  :  "  Well,  my  friends,  you  know 
the  reason  of  my  calling  you  together,  and  you  can  now  determine  re- 
specting Mr.  Murray's  again  entering  our  pulpit.  I  would  have  you 
freely  deliver  your  sentiments.  One  said,  the  people  wished  to  hear, 
and  there  was  no  house  so  convenient  as  theirs  ;  he  could  see  no  reason 
why  I  should  not  preach.  Another  objected.  His  conscience  would 
not  allow  him  to  consent.  A  third  remarked,  the  people  would  go  to 
hear  me,  preach  where  I  would  ;  suppose  I  was  wrong,  I  could  not 
contaminate  the  house  ;  for  his  part,  he  did  not  see  that  I  had  said  any 
thing,  which  had  been  proved  erroneous  ;  that  he  most  devoutly  blessed 
God  he  had  been  present,  for  he  had  received  more  light,  than  he  had 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  177 

ever  before  enjoyed  ;  and  many  united  their  acknowledgments  with  his. 
I  assured  them,  it  was  my  solemn  determination  to  preach  nothing 
but  Christ  Jesus,  and  him  crucified  for  every  human  being.  Finally, 
they  determined  to  open  their  doors  for  my  reception  :  and  thus,  by  per- 
mission of  minister,  and  people,  I  again  and  again  addressed  a  vast  mul- 
titude from  the  pulpit  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Snow,  of  Providence,  and  my 
hearers  appeared  serious  and  attentive. 

During  my  continuance  in  Providence,  I  became  acquainted  with 
Doctor  Huse  of  that  place,  a  very  uncommon  man,  and,  as  it  appeared 
to  me,  of  a  very  luminous  intellect.  Bidding  me  God  speed,  he  added  : 
"  Sir,  I  rejoice,  that  you  dare  be  honest  ;  how  long  you  will  continue 
so,  I  know  not.  At  present,  you  are  boldly  facing  danger,  and  with- 
out fear.  Continue,  I  beseech  you,  to  declare  unmixed  truth,  although 
all  men  should  be  against  you."  On  the  26th  of  October,  1773, 1  took 
a  seat  in  the  stage  for  Boston.  Late  upon  the  evening  of  that  day,  we 
reached  town.  I  had  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Hubbard,  and  another  for  a 
gentleman,  a  major  Paddock  :  but  I  was  unwilling  to  disturb  strangers 
at  an  hour  so  improper  for  a  first  introduction,  and  the  old  question  re- 
curred :  "  What  are  you  to  do  now  ?"  The  passengers,  one  after  ano- 
ther, were  dropped  ;  I  remained  alone  in  the  coach,  and  the  coachman 
civilly  questioned  :  "  Where  will  you  be  set  down,  sir  ?"  Can  you 
recommend  to  me,  a  decent  tavern  ?  While  he  deliberated,  a  son  of  Mrs. 
Hubbard  accosted  him  :  "  Is  Mr.  Murray  in  the  coach  ?"  "  Yes,  sir." 
He  approached  the  door.  "  My  mother,  sir,  has  written  to  my  father  re- 
specting you,  and  we  have  been  looking  out  for  you  with  great  impa- 
tience." All  was  immediately  settled  ;  and  thus  was  I  met,  in  Boston, 
by  the  good  providence  of  God,  while  my  throbbing  heart  exclaimed  : 
To  the  Lord  belongeth  mercy  ;  and  praise,  and  thanksgiving,  are  his 
righteous  due. 

By  Mr.  Hubbard  I  was  received  with  great  kindness,  he  was  an  in- 
nocent, honest  man,  and  his  family  were  truly  friendly.  Upon  the 
ensuing  morning  I  delivered  my  letter  to  Major  Paddock,  whose  re- 
ception of  me  was  such,  as  a  stranger  ought  to  expect,  coolty  civil  ;  he, 
however,  introduced  me  to  Mr.  Williams,  a  respectable,  philanthropic 
gentleman,  strongly  attached  to  the  writings  of  Jacob  Bhemen.  To 
Mr.  Williams  I  have  most  gratefully  to  acknowledge  a  series  of  impor- 
tant, and  essential  obligations.  Measures  were  soon  in  train  for  the 
purpose  of  procuring  a  place,  in  which  I  might  be  allowed  to  deliver 
my  testimony ;  but  every  effort  was  ineffectual,  until  the  following  Sat- 
urday, October  30th.  In  this  interval,  I  received  from  Mr.  Thomas 


178  LIFE    OP    REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

Handasyde  Peck,  a  polite  invitation  to  dine.  Mr.  Peck  was  a  very 
respectable  man,  and  his  lady  a  most  valuable  woman  ;*  they  were  un- 
wearied in  contributing,  to  the  utmost  of  their  abilities,  to  the  relief  of 
the  sons  and  daughters  of  sorrow.  Ranking  among  the  admirers  of 
Mr.  Whitefield,  they  possessed  eminently  the  characteristic  of  his  ad- 
(  herents, — they  were  abundantly  less  bigoted  than  other  Religionists.  In 
the  agreeable  family  of  Mr.  Peck,  I  passed  a  most  delightful  day  ;  I 
related  to  them  the  manner  of  my  coming  to  the  house  of  my  patron, 
and  I  sketched  for  them  the  dealings  of  God  with  me,  since  he  had  cal- 
led me  forth.  They  listened  with  silent  astonishment ;  and  when  I  had 
finished,  they  praised  God  in  my  behalf.  They  were  evidently  pained, 
that  I  could  not  obtain  a  place  in  which  to  preach  ;  and  they  added,  if 
no  other  could  be  procured,  they  would  open  their  own  doors  for  this 
purpose.  There  were  in  Boston  at  this  period  a  few  individuals,  who 
were  immeasurably  attached  to  the  writings  of  Jacob  Bhemen.  Those 
persons  looked  down  with  pity  on  all  those  they  had  left  behind,  who 
were  such  infidels,  as  not  to  ascribe  honour  and  glory  to  the  inspired 
pages  of  this  writer.  I  could  not  forbear  experiencing  great  satisfac- 
tion from  the  consideration,  that  Jesus  Christ  was  made  unto  me  wisdom. 
The  adherents  of  Bhemen  enjoyed  their  philosophical  divinity  very 
highly,  delighting  to  wrap  themselves  about  in  a  mysterious  garment 
of  unintelligible  jargon.  But  thus  it  must  ever  be.  Error  will  prevail, 
until  the  appointed  time  of  the  Father  shall  usher  the  benighted  mind 
into  the  clear  shining  of  the  full  meridian  of  Divine  Revelation. 

At  the  house  of  Major  Paddock  I  met  a  member  of  Mr.  Stillman's 
church,  who  seemed  to  conceive  there  would  be  little  difficulty  in  over- 
throwing my  plan  ;  to  whom  I  observed,  that  if  any  individual  would 
unite  with  me  in  searching  the  scriptures,  I  would,  supposing  there  were 
not  found  in  the  book  of  God  more  positive  assertions  of  final,  and 
universal  Redemption,  than  of  final  Reprobation,  pledge  myself  imme- 
diately to  surrender  my  present  soul-satisfying  views.  "  No  one,"  he 
replied,  "  could  take  pleasure  in  the  destruction  of  mankind."  Why, 
do  not  you,  sir  ?  "  No,  sir."  Why,  sir  1  "  I  wonder  you  should  ask 
such  a  question."  Why,  sir,  why  should  you  not  take  pleasure  in  that, 

*  Many  of  the  descendants  of  this  exemplary  couple  are  among  the  most  opu- 
lent dwellers  in  this  town.  It  is  reported,  that  they  are  marching  forward  in  the 
luminous  path  of  their  excellent  ancestors  ;  that  they  uniformly  extend  to  the 
children  of  adversity  a  munificent  and  extricating  hand  ;  and,  although  their  voi- 
ces did  not  gladden  the  sick  chamber  of  the  preacher,  yet  he  rejoiced  in  their 
prosperity,  and  in  that  large  portion  of  benevolence,  ascribed  to  them  by  the 
echoing  tongue  of  fame.  Editor, 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  179 

in  which  God  takes  pleasure  ?  "  God  does  not  take  pleasure  in  des- 
truction, sir."  What,  sir,  and  make  individuals  on  purpose  to  destroy 
them  ?  and  Almighty  too — Ruling  in  Heaven  above,  and  in  earth  be- 
neath, as  seemeth  in  his  sight  good  ?  Do  you  dare  say,  if  you  had 
power, no  fellow  creature  should  be  lost;  and  dare  you  suppose,  that  He, 
who  hath  all  power,  both  in  heaven  and  in  earth,  hath  not  so  much  love 
as  you,  a  finite  being  ?  Will  He  say  to  you,  Love  your  enemies,  do 
good  to  those,  who  hate  you,  and  pray  for  those,  who  despitefully  use 
you, — and  will  He  not  do  likewise  ?  shall  the  disciple  be  above  his  Mas- 
ter, and  the  servant  above  his  Lord  ?  He  answered  with  a  sigh :  "  I 
cannot  argue  with  you,  sir,  that  last  observation  has  weight."  Ah,  sir  ! 
I  continued,  would  that  every  individual  were  more  intimately  acquaint- 
ed with  that  most  elevating  subject,  the  love  of  God  to  man,  the  never- 
beginning,  never-ending  love  of  God  to  man.  This,  sir,  is  a  species  of 
knowledge,  which  doth  not  puff  up ;  but  it  lifts  up,  as  on  eagles'  wings, 
ever  mounting,  never  tiring,  but  still  discovering,  new  wonders,  through 
the  wasteless  ages  of  eternity.  But  man,  poor,  fallen  man,  who  in  his 
present  state  is  enmity  against  God,  is  ever  measuring  the  love  and 
compassion  of  Deity,  by  his  own  scanty  rule.  Nay,  by  a  rule,  which  he 
would  blush  to  acknowledge.  I  have  frequently  said,  that  there  is  not 
a  person  of  character  upon  this  continent,  who  would  bear  to  be  delin- 
eated, whatever  character  he  sustains,  as  he  thinks  and  speaks  of 
the  Most  High.  What  father  would  choose  to  be  supposed  deficient 
in  providing,  to  the  extent  of  his  power,  every  requisite  aid  for  the  be- 
ings he  has  been  instrumental  in  introducing  into  existence  ?  It  is 
confessed  by  all,  that  God  is  Almighty  ;  that  he  is  a  sovereign  ;  that  he 
can  do,  and  will  do,  as  he  pleases;  and  that  no  power  can  resist  his  will. 
It  is  also  said,  That  he  willeth  not  the  death,  the  eternal  death,  of  the 
sinner  ;  that  he  willeth,  that  man  should  be  saved;  that  he  hath  appoint- 
ed, and  therefore  sends  out  his  servants  to  warn  mankind,  to  call  them 
to  eternal  blessedness,  to  persuade  them  to  come,  that  all  things  are 
now  ready.  All  this  looks  like  love  in  God.  But  we  are  informed,  the 
people,  called,  have  no  knowledge  of  God  ;  that  they  are  enmity  against 
God,  and  that,  not  from  a  persuasion  that  God  was,  in  Christ,  reconcil- 
ing them  to  himself,  but  because  they  do  not  know  this,  and  therefore. 
do  not  believe  it  ;  that  no  man  can  come  unto  the  Father,  but  by  Je- 
sus ;  that  no  man  can  come  unto  Jesus,  except  the  Father  draw  him  ; 
and  that  all,  who  learn  of  the  Father,  come  unto  Jesus  ;  and  all,  who 
eome  unto  him,  he  will  in  no  wise  cast  out.  Are  multitudes  cast  out 
ibrever  ?  Then  it  is  because  they  were  not  taught  of  God  ;  for  if  they 


180  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

had  learned  of  the  Father,  they  would  have  come  unto  Jesus,  and  he 
would  in  no  wise  have  cast  them  out.  But  did  God  attempt  to  teach 
them,  and,  finding  it  beyond  his  power,  did  he  finally  give  them  up  ? 
But  is  not  God  almighty  ?  Yes,  but  he  did  not  choose  to  stretch  forth 
his  Omnipotent  arm.  Why  ?  Because  if  he  had,  they  must  be  saved, 
and  he  would  leave  them  to  the  freedom  of  their  own  will.  Did  He 
not  know  the  consequence  would  be  their  eternal  damnation  ?  O  yes ; 
but  this  is  perfectly  right ;  for,  when  he  called,  they  would  not  hear. 
Did  he  intend  they  should  hear.?  We  have  nothing  to  do  with  that. 
Merciful  God !  lift  up  the  light  of  thy  irradiating  countenance  upon  the 
benighted  family  of  man. 

Upon  the  evening  of  October  30th,  1773,  I  preached  for  the  first 
time  in  Boston,  in  the  hall  of  the  Factory.  My  hearers  were  attentive, 
and,  after  I  had  closed,  several  individuals  addressed  me,  and  with  ap-» 
parent  kindness  invited  me  to  visit  them  at  their  houses.  On  the  suc- 
ceeding evening,  (Sunday,)  I  again  preached  at  the  hall  ;  the  congre- 
gation was  too  large  for  the  place.  My  subject  was  Zechariah  ix.  9. 
The  people  were  more  affectionate,  than  the  preceding  evening  ;  many 
solicited  me  to  tarry,  and  assured  me,  that  a  better  place  should  be  pro- 
vided for  my  accommodation.  On  Monday  evening,  November  1st, 
I  preached  to  a  select  number  at  Mr.  Peck's,  who  seemed  to  have  the 
power  of  God  among  them.  In  consequence  of  a  pressing  solicitation 
from  this  gentleman,  I  took  up  my  lodging  in  his  hospitable  mansion ; 
thus  goodness  and  mercy  continually  followed  me.  From  my  beloved 
friend  Binney,  I  received  repeated  and  affectionate  letters,  and  I  trusted 
this  young  gentleman  would  become  an  able  advocate  for  the  Redeemer. 
A  Mr.  Little,  of  Newburyport,  united  his  earnest  solicitations  with  a 
number  of  gentlemen,  who  importunately  urged  me  to  visit  that  place. 
I  dared  not  refuse  ;  and,  parting  with  my  affectionate  friends  in  Boston, 
I  accompanied  Mr.  Little  and  others  in  the  stage  for  Newburyport. 
On  our  arrival,  inquiries  were  made  at  the  coach-side,  if  1  were  there  ; 
and  on  being  answered  in  the  affirmative,  a  crowd  collected.  Mr.  Par- 
sons, the  Presbyterian  minister,  a  venerable  looking  gentleman,  imme- 
diately visited  me,  and  asked  me  many  questions.  Where  I  came  from  .' 
what  clergymen  I  was  acquainted  with  ?  and  what  credentials  I  could 
produce  ?  During  his  inquiries  he  discovered,  as  it  appeared  to  me, 
j  some  uneasiness  at  the  idea  of  my  preaching  in  his  pulpit  :  I  there- 
fore hastened  to  inform  him,  that  I  was  no  priest,  nor  approved  of  by 
gentlemen  of  that  order  ;  that  I  professed  myself  somewhat  acquainted 
with  the  salvation,  wrought  out  by  Jesus  Christ,  and  that,  wherever  his 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  181 

providence  called  me,  I  was  willing  to  speak  well  of  me  name  of  the 
Redeemer  ;  but,  I  added,  that  I  had  great  reluctance  in  speaking  in 
any  place  in  opposition  to  the  wishes  of  the  officiating  minister.  Mr. 
Parsons  replied:  The  house  was  not  his,  it  was  the  property  of  the  people, 
and  when  it  was  not  occupied,  they  had  an  indubitable  right  to  invite 
who  they  pleased.  Speaking  of  my  call  to  preach,  whether  ordinary, 
or  extraordinary,  I  observed  I  had  both  ;  when  he  petulentlv  asked  : 
"  Pray,  can  you  speak  with  tongues  ?"  It  is  possible  I  may,  sir,  with 
tongues  that  you  may  not  understand.  However,  your  question  is  as 
much  against  you,  as  against  me.  Jesus  says,  among  the  many  signs, 
that  shall  follow  those  who  believe,  they  shall  heal  the  sick  by  laying 
hands  upon  them,  and  if  they  fake  up  any  deadly  thing,  it  shall  not  hurt 
them.  From  these  evidences,  sir,  perhaps  it  would  be  as  hard  for  you 
to  prove  yourself  even  a  believer,  as  for  me  to  prove  myself  a  preacher, 
sent  of  God. 

While  we  were  yet  conversing,  the  bell  was  rung,  and  a  large  con- 
gregation assembled,  among  which  Mr.  Parsons  himself  attended ;  and 
I  selected,  for  my  subject,  Isaiah  Iv.  10,  11.     Agreeably  to  his  earnest 
request,  Mr.  Little  was  my  liost  ;  and  upon  the  ensuing  morning,  (Sat- 
urday,) in  consequence  of  a  very  polite  invitation,  I  breakfasted  with 
Mr  Parsons,  and  I  was  received  by  him,  and  his,  very  cordially  ;    his 
countenance  brightened  upon  me,  and  he  requested  me  to  preach  again 
in  his  church  on  that  day  :     Nor  was  this  all  ;  he  walked  with  me  to 
the  pulpit,  and  sat  with  me  there,  while  I  preached  preparatory  to  the 
communion,  upon  John  xv.  12.     On  the  ensuing  day  (Sunday)  by  the 
request  of  Mr.  Marsh,  who  was  indisposed,  I   preached,  both  morning 
and  evening,  at  his  church.     Several  friends  visited  me  at  Mr.  Little's, 
and  we  closed  the  day  with  prayer.     I  was  rather  surprised  to  learn, 
that  T  lodged,  at  Mr.  Little's,  upon   the  very  same  bed,  in   which  Mr. 
Whitefield  had  reposed  ;  and  that  1  had  preached  in  the  pulpit,  before 
which  he  was  entombed.     I  continued  in    Newburyport,  passing  my 
time  most   pleasantly,  a  second   Sunday  ;    I  preached,  morning  and 
evening,  in  the  pulpit  of  Mr.  Marsh  ;     I  gave  frequent  lectures  there, 
and  in  the  meeting-house  of  Mr.  Parsons,  who  always  sat  in  the  pulpit 
with  me,  and  frequently  entertained  me  most  hospitably  at  his  house. 
His  lady   appeared  to  merit  a  rank  among  the   most  accomplished    of 
women  ;  she  was  highly  social,  sentimental,  and  pleasant.     The  circle 
of  my  friends  in    Newburyport  was  very  respectable.     Upon  a  lecture 
evening,  after  I  had  closed,  an  old,  grey-headed  man,  a  member  of  Mr. 
Parsons's  church,  quitting  his  seat,  addressed  the  congregation,  and  in  a 


182  LIFE  OF  REY.  JOHN   MURRAY. 

loud  voice  said  :  "  My  friends,  this  is  a  servant  of  the  living  God,  who 
is  come  from  a  far  country,  to  proclaim  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation. 
We  have  too  long  been  in  darkness  ;  yea,  our  tongues  have  cleaved  to 
the  roofs  of  our  mouths,  and  this  man  is  sent  to  animate  and  renew  our 
faith."  Many  blessed  God,  they  had  seen  and  heard  me  ;  and  all  this 
1  imputed  to  a  want  of  knowledge,  relative  to  the  extent  of  the  glad 
tidings  I  promulgated.  The  Grace,  Union,  and  Membership,  upon 
which  I  expatiated,  were  admitted  by  every  Calvinist,  but  admitted  only 
for  the  elect  ;  and  when  I  repeated  those  glorious  texts  pf  scripture, 
which  indisputably  proclaim  the  redemption  of  the  lost  world, — as  I 
did  not  expressly  say,  My  brethren,  I  receive  these  texts  in  the  unlim- 
ited sense,  in  which  they  are*  given, — they  were  not  apprized,  that  I 
did  not  read  them  with  the  same  contracted  views,  to  which  they  had 
been  accustomed.  When  they  became  assured  of  the  magnitude  and 
unbounded  result,  which  I  ascribed  to  the  birth,  life,  and  death  of  the 
Redeemer,  their  doors  were  fast  closed  against  me.  For  myself.  I  was 
in  unison  with  Mr.  Relly,  who  supposed  the  gradual  dawn  of  light 
would  eventually  prove  more  beneficial  to  mankind,  than  the  sud- 
den bursting  of  meridian  day.  Thus  I  was  contented  with  proclaiming 
the  truth,  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  in  scripture  language  only, — leaving  to  my 
hearers  deductions,  comments,  and  applications. 

While  I  continued  at  Newburyport,  numerous  solicitations  poured 
upon  me,  from  various  quarters  ;  but,  in  haste  to  return  to  Philadel- 
phia, I  could  only  comply  with  the  urgent  importunities  of  several  gen- 
tlemen from  Portsmouth,  to  which  place  I  journeyed  on  the  10th  of 
November,  1773.  I  was  received  at  Portsmouth  with  most  nattering 
marks  of  kindness.  The  pulpit  of  the  separate  minister,  Mr.  Drown, 
then  recently  deceased,  was  thrown  open  to  me  ;  the  congregations 
were  large  ;  my  adherents  were  truly  respectable,  and  I  was  earnestly 
urged  to  take  up^my  residence  among  them.  The  meeting-house  of 

Mr.  Drown  being  too  small,  I  was  invited  into  the  pulpit  of  Dr.  L , 

in  which  I  preached,  two  clergymen  occupying  seats  therein.  In 
Portsmouth  I  received  many  marks  of  friendship  ;  my  necessities  were 
sought  out,  and  removed  ;  and  the  names  of  Clarkson,  Morrison,  Hart, 
and  Drown,  son  of  the  deceased  minister,  were,  on  that  first  visit,  among 
my  most  partial  friends.  I  returned  to  Newburyport,  accompanied  by 
Mr.  Morrison  and  Mr.  Drown,  and  again  delivered  my  testimony  in  the 
pulpits  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Parsons  and  Mr.  Marsh.  Mr.  Parsons  reques- 
ted I  would  write  to  him  from  Philadelphia  ;  and  on  Wednesday,  No- 
vember 17th,  I  returned  to  Boston,  where  I  learned,  that  a  spirit  of  in- 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  183 

quiry  was  in  operation  among  my  friends  ;  that  tbeir  bibles  were  in  their 
hands  ;  and  that  they  were  diligently  employed  in   searching  the  scrip- 
tures, to  find  whether  these  things  were  indeed  so.       Upon  the  evening 
of  the  18th,   T   preached  in  the  mansion  of  my  venerable  friend,  Mr. 
Peck  ;  and  I  was  distinguished  by  him,  and  his  lady,  with  even  paren- 
tal kindness  :   Mrs.  Peck  entreating  me  to  inform  my  mother,  that  I  had 
found,  in  the  new  world,  a  second  maternal  friend.     It  was  upon  this 
occasion,  that  I  audibly  exclaimed  :  O  God  !   thou  hast  still  continued 
my  God,  and  my  guide  ;  let  me  not  forget  to  render  praises  unto  Thee. 
At  the  period  of  which  I  am  speaking,  there  were  in  Boston  a  num- 
ber of  Deists,  who  attended  my  labours.     Their  leader  gave  me  fre- 
quent invitations  to  visit  him  ;  he  summoned  his  friends,  with  whom  ho 
united  in  expressing  his  abhorrence  of  the  character  of  the  Apostle  Paul. 
To  this  gentleman  I  dwelt  upon  the   respectable  proofs,  by  which  the 
authenticity  of  scripture  was  supported,  and  I  took  leave  to  observe,  that 
he  must  have  received  the  character  of  Paul   from  his  enemies  ;    that 
Paul  was  indubitably  a  learned  man,  brought  up  at  the  feet  of  Gama- 
liel ;  that  he  was  celebrated  as  an  orator  ;  and  that  his  morals  were  un- 
impeached.     It  was  true,  he  was  said  to  have  advocated  a  most  com- 
fortless doctrine, — to  have  affirmed,  that  a  few  were  elected  to  everlast- 
ing life  ;  while,  by  the  same  irreversible  decree,  countless  millions  were 
consigned  to  remediless  and  never-ending  misery.     But,  I  added,   sirs, 
believe  it  not  ;  for,  verily,  the  doctrine,  that  God  was  in  Christ  reconci- 
ling  the  world  unto   himself,  was  uniformly   proclaimed  by  our  great 
Apostle,      The  doctrine  of  election  is  questionless  to  be  found  in  the 
pages  of  this  evangelical  writer  ;  but  reprobation  is  not  a  necessary  con- 
sequence of  election,  nor  does  it  appear   in  the  writings  of  the  Apostle 
to  the  Gentiles.     A  governour  is  elected  by  a  commonwealth,  a  coun- 
cil, senators,  representatives  are    elected  ;  but  are  the  people  therefore 
consigned  to  perdition  ?     Thus  I  went  on,  and  my  little  audience  with 
lifted  hands  exclaimed  :  "  This  plan  is  worthy  of  a  God  ;  and  we  felic- 
itate you,  dear  sir,  as  the  ambassador  of  Deity."     The  hall  of  the  Fac- 
tory, and  the  dwelling  of  my  friend  being  too  small  for  the  increasing- 
congregation,  Mr.  Peck  proposed  I    should    publish  a  lecture    in  the 

meeting-house  of  Mr.  C ,  of  which  he  was  the  principal  support. 

I  at  first  declined  this  proposal  ;  but  his  repeated,  and  earnest  solicita- 
tions, produced  me  in  'Mr.  C-  — 's  pulpit.  In  the  hall  of  the  Fac- 
tory also,  I  again  delivered  my  message  ;  and  on  Friday,  November 
26th,  I  preached  at  Faneuil-Hall  :  my  subject,  John  vii|»  36  ;  Tf  the 
So?/,  therefore,  Khali  make,  you  free,  ye  shall  be  free  indeed.  Tho  prin- 


184  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

cipal  gentlemdPof  the  town  were  among  my  audience,  who  heard  me 
with  great  seriousness.  After  lecture,  many  took  me  by  the  hand,  and, 
urging  me  to  return  to  them  speedily,  prayed,  in  the  warmest  manner, 
for  my  success,  an  a  gospel  promulgator.  This  was  the  last  night  of 
my  abode  in  Boston,  on  my  first  visit.  I  passed  it  at  Mr.  Peck's,  ac- 
companied by  some  friends,  and  we  devoted  it  to  scriptural  investiga- 
tions. My  continuance  in  Boston  was  strongly  urged  ;  but  I  was  un- 
der the  necessity  of  departing,  and  devotional  prayers  for  my  safety, 
^access,  and  speedy  return,  were  reiterated — SUCH  ARE  MY  CREDEN- 
TIALS. I  left  Boston  on  Saturday,  November  27  ;  reaching  Provi- 
dence upon  the  evening  of  that  day,  where,  again  and  again,  I  delivered 
my  testimony  in  the  pulpit  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Snow.  Departing  thence, 
on  the  Tuesday  following,  accompanied  by  my  dear  young  friend,  Mr. 
Biuney,  for  East-Greenwich,  I  met  some  very  dear  friends,  and,  as 
iron  sharpeneth  iron,  so  was  my  countenance  brightened,  and  my  spirit 
soothed  and  cheered. 

From  this  period,  November  30th,  until  the  close  of  January,  1774, 
when  I  reached  my  lodging-place,  at  the  house  of  my  patron,  I  moved 
slowly  on,  preaching  glad  tidings  in  various  places,  friends  and  enemies 
still  multiplying.  At  New-London  my  opportunities  of  preaching 
were  repeated,  and  the  number  of  my  treasures  proportionably  augmen- 
ted ;  Hertell,  Whey,  Trueman,  these  were  of  the  true  circumcision, 
who  worshipped  God  in  the  spirit,  rejoicing  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  having 
no  confidence  in  the  flesh  ;  and  my  orisons  were  daily  offered  up  to 
the  God  of  all  consolation,  that  the  number  of  such  genuine  believers 
might  be  increased.  I  delight  to  dwell  upon  the  days  I  have  passed  in 
New-London.  Deshon,  Wheat,  Saltonstall,  Packwood,  Law,  Hun- 
tington,  Champlin,  Hubbard,  &c.  &c.  very  pleasant  have  ye  been  -unto 
me.  May  the  blessing  of  God  descend  upon  your  children's  children, 
to  the  latest  generation. 

One  capital  difficulty,  which  has  encompassed  me  in  my  progress 
through  this  younger  world,  has  been  the  extreme  reluctance  of  inquir- 
ers to  receive  their  answers  in  scripture  language.  Standing  alone,  I 
have  sought  to  wrap  myself  about,  or  rather  to  intrench  myself  in  the 
sacred  testimony  of  my  God  ;  and  for  this  I  have  been  accused  of  pre- 
varication, equivocation,  and  what  not  ?  merely  because  I  have  not  gen- 
erally chosen  to  garb  my  sentiments  in  my  own  words.  For  example  : 
The  interrogator  commences  with  a  great  many  compliments,  and  then 
follows  :  *1(pDo  you  believe  all  men  will  finally  be  saved  ?"  I  believe, 
ii  is  good  and  acceptable  in  the  sight  of  (iod  our  Suriour,  who  will  have 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  185 

all  men  to  be  saved,  and  to  come  unto  the  knowledge  of  the  truth. 
"  But  do  you  yourself  believe,  that  all  mankind  will  finally  be  saved  ?" 
God  hath  included  all  in  unbelief,  that  he  may  have  mercy  upon  all. 
"  But  will  all  be  finally  saved  '?"  God  hath  spoken  of  the  restitution 
of  all  things,  by  the  mouth  of  alt  his  holy  prophets,  since  the  world  be- 
gan. "  But  still  you  do  not  answer  my  question."  Why,  sir,  for  any 
thing  I  know,  the  authors,  I  have  cited,  mean,  by  their  words,  precisely 
the  same  as  I  do.  I  adopt  their  language,  because  I  conceive  it  ex- 
pressses  my  own  ideas  better  than  any  set  of  phrases  I  could  press  into 
my  service.  This  mode,  however,  has  rarely  given  satisfaction.  Persons 
dare  not,  in  an  unqualified  manner,  deny  the  validity  of  scripture  testi- 
mony ;  they  can  only  assert,  it  does  not  mean  as  it  speaks,  and  they 
earnestly  repeat  the  question  :  "  Do  you  believe,'1  £c.  &c.  While  my 
responses  are  drawn  from  the  sacred  streams,  flowing  in  the  book  of  God, 
from  Genesis  to  Revelations,  still  they  importunately,'  sometimes 
clamorously  demand  :  "  But  do  you  take  those  scriptures,  as  they 
are  spoken  ?"  To  which  I  can  only  reply  :  I  have  no  reason  to  be- 
lieve, that,  by  saying  one  thing,  and  meaning  another,  men,  so  upright, 
have  formed  a  plan  to  deceive  me.  An  attempt  has  then  been  made 
to  prove  the  texts  in  question  did  not,  could  not,  mean  as  they  spake. 
To  which  T  have  answered  :  Multitudes  are  on  your  side  ;  many  have 
laboured  to  prove  God  a  liar  ;  but  I  have  never  yet  heard  any  argu- 
ment, sufficiently  potent,  to  convince  me  that  He  is  so. 

On  the  ninth  of  April,  in  this  year,  I  received  from  the  church  and 
congregration  in  Portsmouth,  New-Hampshire,  worshipping  in  the  se- 
parate meeting-house,  a  solemn,  and  affectionate  call,  to  take  upon  me 
the  pastoral  charge  of  that  people  ;  but  I  was  not  then  convinced  I 
ought  to  accept  an  establishment  in  any  place.  I  passed  the  spring,  and 
the  early  part  of  the  summer  of  1774,  in  Pennsylvania,  the  Jersies,  and 
New- York  with  persons,  who  had  drank  into  the  same  spirit  with  my- 
self ;  with  my  revered  friend,  and  father,  with  the  Mounts,  and  Pang- 
burns  of  those  happy  days.  Blessed  be  God,  I  have  indeed  enjoyed 
richly  the  consolations  of  friendship.  In  Philadelphia  I  was  present  at 
the  heart-rending  trial  of  some  malefactors,  which  resulted  in  their  recei- 
ving sentence  of  death  ;  and  I  could  not  forbear  exclaiming  :  OH, 
ADAM,  WHAT  HAST  THOU  DONE  ?  My  bosom  swells  to  rapture,  upon 
the  reflection,  that  I  had  frequent  opportunities  of  visiting  those  crimi- 
nals, and  of  preaching  to  them  peace,  through  the  fountain  opened  in  the 
side  of  the  second  Adam.  The  poor  creatures  seemed  much  affected. 
The  proclamation  of  the  tender  merries  of  the  Redeemer  was  more  ef- 


186  LIFE  OF  REr.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

fectual,  than  all  the  terrors  of  Mount  Sinai.  Departing  from  New-York, 
about  the  20th  of  July,  I  passed,  by  short  stages,  through  Connecticut 
and  Rhode-Island,  visiting  my  friends  in  various  directions,  and  deriv- 
ing inexpressible  satisfaction  from  beholding  their  order,  their  zeal,  and 
the  magnitude  of  their  faith.  On  the  16th  of  August,  the  governour  of 
Rhode-Island  sent  me  a  passage  of  scripture,  soliciting  me  to  take  it 
for  my  subject :  It  may  be  found,  Mark  xiv.  10.  The  governour  at- 
tended, and  after  I  had  closed,  took  my  hand  with  much  cordiality,  and 
expressed  himself  well  satisfied,  and  truly  grateful. 

September  14th,  1774,  I  again  reached  Boston.  My  friends  had 
long  been  expecting  me,  and  I  was  received  with  demonstrations  of 
heart-felt  joy.  Through  the  greatest  part  of  this  autumn,  I  continued 
preaching  in  the  hall  of  the  factory,  in  the  mansion  of  my  venerable  friend, 
and  at  Faneuil-Hall.  Once  I  attempted  to  preach  in  Masons'- Hall  ; 
but  the  throng,  and  consequent  confusion  were  so  great,  that  I  was  ne- 
cessitated to  desist,  even  after  I  had  worded  my  text  :  and  finally,  the 
congregations  still  augmenting,  I  yielded  to  the  pressing  solicitations  of 
the  proprietors  of  Mr.  C 's  meeting-house,  and  repeatedly  deliv- 
ered my  testimony  there.  On  the  31st  of  October,  a  gentleman,  by  the 
name  of  Sargent,  called  upon  me  from  Gloucester,  urging  me  to  accom- 
pany him  to  his  place  of  residence.  My  engagements  would  not  allow 
my  immediate  attendance,  but  I  gave  my  word  for  an  early  compliance 
with  his  wishes.  November  2d,  Wednesday  evening,  I  named  as  the 
subject  of  my  public  lecture,  Luke  13th,  from  the  24th  to  the  30th. 
After  I  had  closed,  a  clergyman,  of  a  respectable  appearance,  whom  I 
had  never  before  seen,  ascended  the  stairs  of  the  pulpit,  and  addressed  the 
people  to  the  following  effect :  "  My  friends,  you  have  heard  a  groat  deal 
said,  (for  what  purpose  I  know  not,)  which  is  calculated  to  lead  you  astray 
from  the  true  meaning  of  the  text.  The  passage  refers  to  the  general 
judgment,  and  to  nothing  else  ;  and  all,  that  has  been  said,  can  only 
originate  wrong  ideas  of  the  scriptures  ;  for  how  can  it  be,  that  the  Jews 
should  be  intended  by  those,  who  were  shut  out  ?  When  did  the 
Jews  see  Abraham,  and  Isaac,  and  Jacob  in  the  kingdom  of  God  ?  or 
how  is  it  possible,  that,  if  they  should  thus  behold  them,  they  could  ever 
be  happy  ?  It  is  not  possible,  that  any  person,  who  dies  in  a  state  of  un- 
belief, should  ever  be  happy  to  all  eternity  :  and  therefore,  my  brethren, 
I  would  exhort  you  to  take  care  you  are  not  led  astray  by  the  words  of 
man's  wisdom,  and  the  cunning  craftiness  of  men,  whereby  they  lay  in 
wait  to  deceive.  O  I  it  is  very  dangerous  to  give  heed  to  such  things." 
Thus  the  gentleman  proceeded,  earnestly  warning  the  people,  and  then 


LIFE  OF  BET.  JOHN  MURRAY.  187 

paused.  Again  I  arose,  saying  :  Now,  this  is  well  ;  I  like  this.  Hovr 
infinitely  preferable  to  secret  calumny  ;  no  bush-fighting  here.  And, 
so  much  am  I  gratified  by  this  ingenuous  manner  of  dealing  with  me, 
that  it  is  with  extreme  reluctance  I  find  it  necessary  to  dissent  from  him 
in  opinion.  Yet  I  must  beg  leave  to  observe  :  In  the  first  place,  the 
gentleman  must  assuredly  be  wrong,  in  supposing  the  passage  in  question 
refers  to  the  general  and  final  judgment.  Do  but  attend  to  the  concluding 
verse  :  There  are  last,  which  shall  be  first,  and  first,  which  shall  be  last. 
Surely,  the  toxt  would  not  be  thus  worded,  if  the  last  judgment  were  de- 
signed. The  parable  of  the  ten  virgins  illustrates  this  passage.  Then 
turning  to  the  llth  of  Romans,  I  pointed  out  some  particulars,  which 
are  generally  passed  unnoticed  ;  and  when  I  read,  "for  God  hath  in- 
cluded them  all  in  UNBELIEF,  that  he  might  have  mercy  upon  all,  my 
opponent,  rising,  looked  over  ray  shoulder,  evidently  to  ascertain,  if  I 
had  given  the  genuine  reading  of  the  text ;  upon  which  a  lawyer,  in  the 
assembly,  exclaimed  :  "  I  advise  you,  sir,  to  retire,  and  read  your  Bi- 
ble." I  begged,  we  might  not  be  interrupted  ;  and  I  affirmed,  that  my 
antagonist  was  entitled  to  my  cordial  thanks,  and  that  I  devoutly  wished 
his  example  might  be  generally  influential.  I  then  proceeded  to  show, 
that  it  was  possible  an  individual  might  pass  out  of  time,  ignorant  of  God, 
and  yet  be  taught  of  God  in  that  great  day,  when  the  books  should  be  open- 
ed. I  read  the  last  part  of  the  2c2d  Psalm,  making  a  few  remarks  thereon ; 
and,  after  exhorting  the  audience  to  follow  the  example  of  the  Bereans,  I 
paused  for  a  reply.  The  gentleman  affirmed,  I  had  given  an  erroneous 
view  of  the  parable  of  the  ten  virgins;  that  it  pointed  outthe  visible  church- 
and  that  the  foolish  virgins  were  the  hypocrites  :  and  he  admonished,  the 
people  to  beware  of  false  teachers,  &c.  &c.  To  which  I  replied,  by  pre- 
suming the  gentleman  did  not  recollect,  that  ihe  foolish  virgins  seemed  to 
be  equally  a  part  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  with  the  wise  virgins,  other- 
wise he  would  not  so  liberally  have  consigned  them  to  the  Devil.  He  would 
have  us  believe,  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  the  visible  church  ;  such  are 
the  sentiments  of  His  Holiness  at  Rome  ;  but,  having  abjured  one  Pope, 
I  trusted  we  should  not  again  be  brought  into  subjection  to  principles, 
the  propriety  of  which  our  hearts  refused  to  acknowledge. 

November  3d,  I  repaired  to  Gloucester,  and  was  received  by  a  few 
very  warm-hearted  Christians.  The  mansion-house — the  heart,  of 
the  then  head  of  the  Sargent  family,  with  his  highly  accomplished,  and 
most  exemplary  lady,  were  open  to  receive  me.  I  had  travelled  from 
Maryland  to  New-Hampshire,  without  meeting  a  single  individual, 
who  appeared  to  have  the  smallest  idea"  of  what  I  esteemed  the  truth, 


188  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

as  it  is  in  Jesus  ;  but  to  my  great  astonishment,  there  were  a  few  per- 
sons, dwellers  in  that  remote  place,  upon  whom  the  light  of  the  gospel 
had  more  than  dawned.  The  writings  of  Mr.  Relly  were  not  only  in 
their  hands,  but  in  their  hearts.  Four  years  previous  to  this  period,  an 
Englishman,  a  Mr.  Gregory,  had  brought  with  him  those  obnoxious 
pages,and  loaned  them  to  this  small  circle  of  Gloucesterians,by  whom  they 
had  been  seized  with  avidity  ;  the  Father  of  their  spirits  rendered  them 
luminous  to  their  understandings  ;  and  it  was  in  consequence  of  their 
admiration  of  Mr.  Relly,  that,  observing  in  the  papers  of  the  day,  an 
individual  malignantly  arraigned,  as  a  preacher  of  Kelly's  Gospel,  they 
delayed  not  to  dispatch  earnest  solicitations  for  my  presence  among 
them.  In  Gloucester,  therefore,  I  passed  my  time  most  agreeably, 
,  until  November  12th.  The  clergyman  of  the  principal  meeting-house, 
being  confined  by  illness,  I  was  visited  by  the  deacons  and  elders  of 
his  church,  and  by  them  conducted  to  his  house,  after  which  I  obtain- 
ed permission  to  preach  in  his  pulpit,  which  I  several  times  did  ;  my 
subjects  1  Cor.  xi.  26.  The  good  Samaritan.  Isaiah  xxviii.  16,  &c. 
Every  day,  and  every  evening  was  appropriated  to  the  expounding  of 
the  scriptures,  in  the  spacious  and  well  filled  parlour  of  my  new,  and 
highly  respectable  friend  ;  and  I  had  reason  to  believe,  that  God  most 
graciously  crowned  my  labours  in  this  place,  by  giving  to  some  bright- 
er views,  and  inducing  others  to  search  the  scriptures  for  themselves. 
Every  morning  commenced,  and  every  day  closed,  with  prayer  ;  and, 
with  glad  hearts,  we  delighted  to  hymn  the  praises  of  a  redeeming  God. 
Taking  a  most  affectionate  leave  of  those  very  dear  friends,  on  Satur- 
day morning,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Sargent,  1  returned  to  Boston. 
Upon  the  evenings  of  Sunday,  and  Wednesday,  T  again  occupied  the 
pulpit  of  Mr.  C ;  and  upon  the  evening  of  Wednesday,  the  audi- 
ence were  incommoded  by  a  profusion  of  water,  thrown  over  them, 
and  an  egg  was  aimed  at  me  in  the  pulpit,  which  however  happened  to 
miss  me.  On  Thursday  a  piece  of  slander  was  published  in  the  paper 

of  the  day,  over  the  signature  of  Mr.  C .     He  had  before  declared, 

Jhe  would  print  no  more  in  the  newspaper,  so  had  I  ;  but,  although  he 
had  forfeited  his  word,  I  did  not  think  proper  to  follow  his  example, 
and  I  therefore  addressed  the  following  letter,  to  his  private  ear. 

SIR, 

Some  time  since,  being  under  the  disagreeable  necessity  of  replying 
to  a  dull  'repetition  of  your  abusive  slanders ;  and  being  persuaded,  right 
or  wrong,  you  would  have  the  last  word,  I  assured  the  public  I  would 
write  no  more  in  newspapers,  so  did  you  ;  but  your  brilliant  example 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  189 

shall  never  influence  me  to  undertake  the  vindication  of  my  veracity,  by 
convincing  the  world  I  can  lie.  But  as,  in  the  close  of  your  last  per- 
formance, you  informed  me  and  the  public,  that,  if  I  thought  myself 
wronged,  what  had  been  asserted  should  be  proved  to  my  face,  before 
as  large  an  auditory  as  I  pleased  ;  I  now,  sir,  take  leave  to  say,  I  do 
think  myself  most  cruelly  wronged,  and  I  should  rejoice  in  an  oppor- 
tunity of  vindicating  myself  at  the  bar  of  the  impartial  public  ;  yes,  I 
should  rejoice  to  see  a  very  large  audience  collected  :  but,  as  I  sup- 
pose we  shall  not  be  able  to  procure  any  place,  but  the  meeting-house 
in  School-street,  I  shall  expect,  if  you  be  an  honest  man,  to  meet  you 
there.  You  commend  a  certain  gentleman,  who  recently  spoke  to  me 
in  that  house — so  do  I.  He  did  not,  like  Solomon's  fool,  cast  about 
firebrands,  arrows,  and  death,  and  say,  Am  I  not  in  sport  ?  he  spake 
above-board,  fair,  and  openly.  I  should  be  glad  you  would  come 
and  do  likewise — only  I  request  you  will  let  me  know  in  writing,  bA 
the  bearer,  when  you  will  do  this  piece  of  common  justice,  to  the  cru- 
elly, and  most  unwarrantably  treated, 

JOHN  MURRAY. 

This  letter  enraged  him,  and  he  sent  it  back,  declaring  he  would  have 
nothing   to  do  with  me.       But  on   the  following  Sunday  evening, 

when  I  repaired,  as  usual,  to  the  meeting-house  to  preach,  Mr.  C 

was  upon  the  stairs  of  the  pulpit,  with  a  number  of  his  violent  adher- 
ents, for  the  purpose  of  barring  me  out.  Making  no  resistance,  I  re- 
quested the  gentleman  might  be  heard  with  patient  attention  ;  and  si- 
lence being  obtained,  Mr.  C entered  the  pulpit,  and  declaimed  for 

a  long  time,  with  great  bitterness  ;  accusing  me  of  preaching  damnable 
doctrines,  though  he  had  never  heard  me  preach  ;  but  so  he  had  beeu 
informed,  asserting,  that  I  was  one  of  Kelly's  followers,  and  Relly  be- 
lieved all  mankind  would  be  saved  ;  and  Relly  was  a  blasphemer,  and 
denied  the  atonement ;  and  I  was  a  Deist,  and  it  was  dangerous  to  al- 
low me  to  speak  :  for  I  said  once,  in  his  hearing,  that  God  loved  the 
Devil's  children  :  and  then,  raising  his  voice,  he  vociferated,  4i  It  is  a  lie, 
a  lie,  a  lie,  it  is  a  damnable  lie."  Thus  he  went  on  alternately  crying 
out  against  me,  and  against  Mr.  Relly,  damning  my  preaching,  and  his 
writings,  and  exhorting  the  people  to  avoid  me,  &c.  &c.  When  he  had 
concluded,  he  quitted  the  pulpit,  and  was  passing  out  of  the  house  as 
speedily  as  possible.  I  requested  him  to  stop  ;  but,  observing  he  was 
rapidly  departing,  I  urgcfl  the  people  to  give  me  an  opportunity  of  hav- 
ing justice  done  me,  by  detaining  my  accusing  adversary,  that  I  might 
defend  myself  in  his  presence ;  and  Mr.C was  accordingly  led  into 

AA 


190  LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

H 

a  pew.  I  informed  the  audience,  that  I  did  indeed  labour  under  great 
difficulty.  The  person,  to  whom  I  was  about  to  reply,  was  an  old  gen- 
tleman, and  a  clergyman,  both  of  which  characters  were  indubitably 
entitled  to  respect.  Yet  truth  was,  in  my  opinion,  abundantly  superior 
to  every  other  consideration  ;  it  was  beyond  all  price ;  a  gem,  with  which 
its  possessor  should  never  part.  I  should  therefore  take  leave  to  say, 

Mr.  C was  very  right,  and   very  wrong.     Right  in  condemning 

damnable  doctrines  ;  wrong  in  charging  me  with  preaching  those  doc- 
trines. Mr.  C ,  I  said,  reminded  me  of  Nero,  who,  to  be  revenged 

upon  the  Christians,  caught  the  city  of  Rome  on  fire,  and  charged  the 

Christians  with  that  atrocious  deed.     Mr.  C had  dressed  me  in 

bear's  skins,  and  then  set  the  dogs  at  me.  He  affirms,  that  I  preach 
damnable  doctrines  !  Suffer  me  to  ask,  What  are  damnable  doctrines  ? 
Peter  says,  There  shall  arise  false  teachers  among  you,  as  there  were 
false  prophets  among  the  people,  who  shall  privily  bring  in  damnable 
doctrines,  even  denying  the  Lord,  who  bought  them.  I  appeal  to  this 
audience.  Did  I  ever  deny  the  Lord,  who  bought  you  ?  On  the  con- 
trary, have  I  not  borne  constant  testimony  to  this  purchase  ?  Did  you 
ever  hear  me  say,  It  made  no  difference,  whether  a  man  lived  a  good,  or 
a  bad  life  ;  was  a  believer,  or  an  wibeliever  ?  Surely,  it  is  highly  incon- 
sistent to  rank  me  with  the  Deist,  who  utterly  disowns  the  Redeemer, 
when  I  am  arraigned  at  this  bar  for  believing  there  is  no  God  out  of 
Christ,  and  that  he,  who  is  God,  our  Saviour,  is  all,  and  in  all.  Mr- 

Relly   is  three  thousand  miles  from  this  metropolis,    Mr.  C has 

neither  seen  nor  heard  him.  Blasphemy,  of  which  Mr.  C accu- 
ses him,  is  no  where  to  be  found  in  his  writings.  These  writings,  give 
me  leave  to  say,  will  live,  and  be  held  in  admiration,  when  ten  thous- 
and such  characters  as  Mr.  C 's  and  mine,  will  be  consigned  to 

oblivion.  Thus  I  went  on.  Mr.  C again  advanced  to  the  pul- 
pit ;  reiterated  what  he  had  before  asserted,  without  regarding  a  syl- 
lable which  I  had  uttered,  until  at  length  he  interrogated  :  "  Does  God 
love  all  the  people  in  the  world  as  well  as  Peter  and  Paul  ?"  Suffer 
me,  sir,  first  to  ask  you  one  question,  which,  if  you  will  answer,  then  I 
will  reply  to  yours.  Did  God  love  Peter,  and  Paul,  as  well  before  they 
believed  as  afterwards  ?  "  God  loved  Peter,  and  Paul,  from  the  founda- 
tion of  the  world."  Again,  and  again,  I  repeated  my  question,  but 
could  not  obtain  a  direct  answer.  The  people  from  the  galleries  called 
out,  "  Why  do  you  not  say  yes,  or  no  ?" — but  he  refused  thus  to  com- 
mit himself,  and  of  course  I  dropped  the  inquiry.  Again  he  returned 
to  the  charge.  "  Does  God  love  all  the  people  in  the  world,  as  well 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOII^I  MURRAY.  191 

as  Peter,  and  Paul  ?"  Yes,  sir,  I  believe  He  does,  as  well  as  He  loved 
those  Apostles  before  they  believed.  "  Do  you  believe  God  loves  all 
the  people  in  the  world  ?"  Yes,  sir,  I  do.  Then,  again,  he  proceed- 
ed most  violently,  and,  that  the  heresy  might  be  confirmed,  he  once 
more  questioned  :  "  Do  you  believe,  that  God  loves  all  the  Devil's 
children,  as  well  as  his  own  beloved  ones  ?"  No,  indeed  ;  I  do  not 
think  God  loves  any  of  the  Devil's  children.  "  There,  there,  now  he 
is  hiding  again."  Suffer  me,  sir,  to  ask,  What  is  it  constitutes  the 
character  of  the  wicked  man  ?  "  That  is  nothing  to  the  purpose.1' 

Again  I  ask,  what  is  it  constitutes  the  character  of  the  wicked  man  ? 
Here  several  individuals  tremulously  asked  :  "  Why  do  you  not  an- 
swer the  question  ?  we  are  all  concerned  in  it,  we  are  seeking  informa- 
tion." "Suppose  I  cannot ;  let  soms?  one  else  answer,  and,  if  I  like  it,  I 

will  agree  to  it."     No  answer  was  given,    and  Mr.  C resumed  his 

declamation,  affirming,  I  had  said,  God  loved  the  Devil's  children.  I 
denied  the  charge,  and  was  again  accused  of  hiding,  when  I  besought 
the  attention  of  the  people,  while  1  explained  myself.  What  are  we  to 
understand  by  a  father,  and  a  child,  but  begetter  and  begotten  ?  Can 
you,  Mr.  C ,  or  can  any  one  present,  presume  to  say,  that  the  bo- 
dies, or  the  souls  of  mankind,  were  begotten  by  the  Devil  ?  Is  not 
God  the  Father  of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh  ?  Is  not  God  the  Maker  of 
our  frames  ?  and  doth  not  the  Apostle  say,  we  are  all  His  offspring  ? 
If  it  be  confessed,  we  all  died  in  Adam,  we  were  of  course  in  Adam  ; 
and  if  we  were  in  Adam,  we  were  what  Adam  was.  But  the  Evan- 
gelist Luke  affirms,  that  Adam  was  the  son  of  God.  We  will  next 
inquire,  Who  are  the  children  of  the  Devil,  and  who  are  the  children  of 
God?  I  humbly  conceive,  Christ  Jesus  himself  has  put  the  matter  be- 
yond dispute,  in  the  ever  memorable  parable  of  the  Tares  of  the  field, 
and  our  obligation  to  the  Redeemer,  for  explaining  it  so  clearly  to  his 
disciples,  is  indeed  immeasurable.  I  then  repeated  the  parable,  and  the 
explanation  ;  and  proved  from  thence,  that  the  abominations  of  the 
earth  were  the  children  of  the  Devil,  because  produced  by  him  ;  that 
the  iniquities  of  the  people  were  the  tares,  sowed  by  the  adversary  ; 
that  our  nature  was  the  good  seed,  which  Jesus  sowed.  A  holy  God 
could  not  love  sin,  and,  of  course,  could  love  no  child  of  the  Devil  : 
but  men,  being  his  offspring,  He  once  loved  them  as  his  own,  and  hav- 
ing loved  His  own,  He  loved  them  unto  the  end  :  that  He  had  proved 
this  to  all  men,  in  the  Gift  of  his  Son  ;  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  He 

gave  them  his  Son.     Mr.4C interrupted:  "  Nine  tenths  of  all  you 

have  said  is  nothing  at  all  to  the  purpose  :"  and  again,  in  terras  the  mosi 


192  LIFE  OF  RI^V.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

violent,  he  renewed  his  accusation,  that  I  was  all  the  time  hiding.  A 
voice  from  the  gallery  exclaimed  :  "  If  he  be  hiding,  why  do  you  not 

hunt  him  out  of  the  bush  ?"     Mr.  C at  length  tauntingly  said  s 

"  Come,  come,  leave  off  hiding,  and  tell  the  people,  in  plain  english, 
that  God  loves  them  all."  To  which  I  answered  :  I  will,  sir,  in  as 
plain  english,  as  I  can  command  ; — and  then,  addressing  the  congrega- 
tion, I  thus  delivered  the  genuine  sentiments  of  my  soul  :  I  am  com- 
missioned to  say,  to  every  individual  before  me,  that  God  loves  you, 
and  that  you  are  not  to  accept  this  declaration  upon  my  bare  word  ;  you 
have  the  word  of  a  God,  who  cannot  lie  ;  who  proclaims  Himself 
loving  unto  every  man  ;  who  has  given  you  proof  positive  of  His  love. 
His  love  has  been  greatly  manifested  in  your  birth  ;  in  rearing  you  from 
infancy  ;  in  guarding  you  through  the  devious  paths  of  childhood,  and 
youth  ;  and  preserving  you  from  ten  thousand  dangers,  to  which  you 
have  been  exposed.  His  gracious  providence,  in  so  plentifully  provi- 
ding for  you,  is  a  proof  of  His  love.  Your  civil,  and  religious  liberties, 
arc  blessed  proofs  of  the  love  of  your  God.  These  particulars  announce 
the  love  of  Deity,  to  every  individual,  as  a  Creator,  and  Preserver.  Yet 
these  manifestations  may  be  considered  as  merely  temporal  :  But,  bles- 
sed be  the  holy  name  of  Jehovah  !  I  am  authorized  to  add,  and  in  plain 
english  too,  that  God  loves  the  soul,  which  emanates  from  Himself,  and 
that  He  has  proved  this  love  by  the  gift  of  His  son.  God  so  loved  the 
world,  that  He  gave  them  His  son.  To  us  a  child  is  born,  to  us  a  Son 
is  given.  God  has  evinced  His  love,  by  giving  us,  in  this  son,  Recon- 
cilia^ion,  Regeneration,  a  new  Head,  a  new  Heart,  a  right  Spirit.  Here 
your  Creator  so  loved  you,  as  to  give  you  Wisdom,  Righteousness, 
Sanctification,  and  Redemption.  In  Christ  Jesus,  God  has  so  loved  you, 
as  to  bless  you  with  all  spiritual  blessings.  Every  individual  should  be- 
lieve this,  since  it  is  nothing  more  than  an  accomplishment  of  the  promise, 
of  the  oath  of  Jehovah,  which  he  swear  unto  Abraham,  saying  :  And 
in  thy  Seed  shall  all  the  nations,  all  the  families  of  the  earth,  be  blessed. 
Such  are  the  glad  tidings,  which  the  God,  who  loved  you  before  the 
foundation  of  the  world,  hath  commanded  us  to  proclaim  to  every  one 
of  you  ;  such  are  the  glad  tidings,  which  you  ought  to  believe.  If  your 
heart  tell  you,  It  is  not.  so,  believe  it  not,  it  is  an  unbeliving  heart ;  he, 
that  trusteth  such  a  heart,  is  a  fool.  If  the  Devil  tell  you,  It  is  not  so, 
believe  him  not,  he  was  a  liar  from  the  beginning.  If  your  ministers 
tell  you,  You  ought  not  to  believe  this  good  report,  trust  them  not ; 
they  take  part  with  the  Devil,  and  your  unbelieving  hearts.  The  Devil 
would  persuade  you,  not  to  believe  these  glorions  truths,  because,  if  you 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  193 

were  delivered  from  his  usurpation,  you  would  henceforward  serve  your 
Creator  without  fear.  The  arch  fiend  is  solicitous  to  retain  you  in 
bondage  ;  his  utmost  efforts  are  in  requisition  to  prevent  you  from  be- 
lieving, that  God  has  so  loved  you,  as  to  purchase  you  with  the  price 
of  blood,  of  the  precious  blood  of  the  Lamb  of  God  ;  he  would  pre- 
vent you  from  believing,  that  you  are  bought  with  such  a  price,  lest, 
thus  believing,  you  should  render  yourselves  living  sacrifices,  holy,  and 
acceptable  to  God.  But,  let  God  be  true,  and  every  man  a  liar.  Ye 
are  not  your  own,  ye  are  bought  with  a  price,  and  the  love  of  Christ 
constraineth  us,  because  we  thus  judge,  if  One  died  for  all,  then  were 
all  dead  ;  and  that  He  died  for  all,  that  they,  who  live,  should  not  hence- 
forth live  unto  themselves,  but  unto  Him,  who  died  for  them,  and  rose 
again. 

All  the  time  I  was  speaking,  Mr.  C was  kicking  my  legs,  or 

pulling  the  skirts  of  my  garment,  ever  and  anon  vociferating  :  "  Have 
done,  have  done  ;  you  have  said  enough ;  quite  enough,"  &c.  &c. 
Sometimes  he  stood  up  close  to  my  side,  shouldering  me  as  hard  as  he 
was  able.  The  congregation  noticed  his  behaviour,  arid  it  did  not  give 
them  pleasure.  For  myself,  I  had  much  cause  for  gratitude  to  my  di- 
vine Master  :  1st,  that  he  was  pleased  to  give  me  words  ;  and  2dly, 
that  he  did  not  suffer  me  to  lose  my  self-command.  No,  not  for  an  in- 
stant. Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord. 

My  next  evening  lecture  was  uninterrupted  ;  but,  on  the  succeeding 
Sunday  evening,  the  throng  was  so  prodigious,  that  it  was  with  much' 
difficulty  I  reached  the  pulpit  ;  and  when  entered,  I  was  nearly  suffo- 
cated by  the  strong  effluvia,  arising  from  the  asafoetida,  with  which  the 
tools  of  the  adversary  had  wet  the  pulpit  and  the  pulpit  cloth,  plenti- 
fully sprinkling  the  whole  house  with  the  same  noxious  drug.  For  some 
moments  I  was  so  much  overpowered,  as  to  induce  an  apprehension, 
that  it  would  be  impossible  I  should  proceed  ;  but  the  God  of  my  life 
was  abundantly  sufficient  for  me.  The  demons  of  confusion  were, 
however,  not  quite  satisfied  ;  many  stones  were  violently  thrown  into 
the  windows;  yet  no  one  received  any  other  injury,  than  the  alarm, 
which  was  created.  At  length,  a  large  rugged  stone,  weighing  about  a 
pound  and  a  half,  was  forcibly  thrown  in  at  the  window  behind  my 
back  ;  it  missed  me.  Had  it  sped,  as  it  was  aimed,  it  must  have  finish- 
ed me.  Lifting  it  up,  and  waving  it  in  the  view  of  the  people,  I  obser- 
ved :  This  argument  is  solid,  and  weighty,  but  it  is  neither  rational, 
nor  convincing.  Exclamations,  from  various  parts  of  the  house,  were 
echoed,  and  re-echoed  :  "  Pray,  sir,  4eave  the  pulpit,  -your  life  is  at 


194  l-IFE  OF  REV.    JOHN  MURRAY. 

hazard."  Be  it  so,  I  returned,  the  debt  of  nature  must  be  paid,  and  1 
am  as  ready,  and  as  willing,  to  discharge  it  now,  as  I  shall  be  fifty 
years  hence.  Yet,  for  your  consolation,  suffer  me  to  say,  I  am  immor- 
tal, while  He  who  called  me  into  existence  has  any  business  for  me  to 
perform  ;  and  when  He  has  executed  those  purposes,  for  which  He 
designed  me,  He  will  graciously  sign  my  passport  to  realms  of  blessed- 
ness. With  your  good  leave,  then,  I  will  pursue  my  subject,  and 
•while  I  have  a — THUS  SAITH  THE  LORD — for  every  point  of  doctrine 
which  I  advance,  not  all  the  stones  jn  Boston,  except  they  stop  my 
breath,  shall  shut  my  mouth,  or  arrest  my  testimony.  The  congrega- 
tion was,  as  I  have  said,  astonishingly  large  ;  but  order  and  silence  were 
gradually  restored,  and  I  had  uncommon  freedom  in  the  illustration, 
and  defence  of  those  sacred  truths,  which  will  be  ultimately  triumph- 
ant. Two  or  three  succeeding  lecture  evenings  were  unmolested, 
when  the  business  of  stoning  me  in  the  pulpit,  was  again  resumed ; 
my  friends  were  in  terror,  and,  after  I  had  closed,  forming  a  strong 
phalanx  around  me,  they  attended  me  home.  Many  religious  people 
were  violent  in  their  opposition  ;  they  insisted  that  I  merited  the  sever- 
est punishment ;  that  the  old  discipline  for  Heretics  ought  to  be  put  in 
force,  and  I  was  thus  furnished  with  abundant  reason  to  bless  God  for 
the  religious  liberty  of  the  country  of  my  adoption,  else  racks  and  tor- 
tures, would  have  been  put  in  operation  against  me,  nor  would  these 
holy  men,  moved  by  the  spirit,  have  stopped  short  of  my  destruction. 
Yet  was  the  charge  of  heresy  never  proved  against  me.  I  was  never 
silenced  either  by  reason  or  scripture — I  had  called  upon  men  every 
where,  clergymen,  or  laymen,  to  step  forward,  and  convict  me  of  error ; 
promising,  solemnly  promising,  immediately  upon  conviction,  to  relin- 
quish the  obnoxious  tenet,  whatever  it  might  chance  to  be,  and  to  adopt 
that  better  way,  which  would,  in  such  an  event,  become  luminous 
before  me.  Truth,  and  gratitude,  originates  the  confession,  that  in 
all  circumstances,  I  have  hitherto  had  reason  to  bless  the  God  of  my 
life,  who  hath  promised  He  will  be  with  me  to  the  end  of  the  world, 
and  that  all  things  shall  work  together  for  good.  Amen,  and  amen. 


OF  REV.  JOHfl  MURRAY.  195 


CHAPTER  VII. 

.Summary  Record  of  Events,  from  January,  1775,  to  October,  1809. 

Amid  the  haunts  of  memory  let  me  stray, 
As  duty,  love,  and  friends  hip  point  the  way  ; 
With  hand  of  diligence,  and  humid  eye, 
The  faithful  record  tearfully  supply. 


the  beloved  Preacher  had  continued  his  narrative.  The 
Editor  fondly  calculating  upon  assistance,  which  she  believed 
herself  authorized  to  expect,  pledged  herself  to  continue  the  sketch, 
even  to  the  closing  scene.  But,  alas  !  disappointed  in  her  cherished 
hopes,  she  stands  alone.  Her  health  is  broken,  her  spirits  are  depress- 
ed, and  she  is  advanced  in  life  ;  yea,  doubtless,  she  is  inadequate  to  the 
performance.  of  her  promise  —  But  she  remembers  that  this  volume  is 
addressed  only  to  the  friends  of  the  dear  departed,  and  she  mournfully 
proceeds  to  its  completion. 

Upon  December  14,  1774,  Mr.  Murray  again  visited  Gloucester  ; 
the  numerous  family  of  the  Sargents,  then  seated  in  that  place,  em- 
braced in  almost  all  its  branches,  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  and  their 
attachment  to  him,  whom  they  believed  an  ambassador  of  the  Redeem- 
er, was  proportioned  to  their  zeal.  Many  respectable  names  were 
added,  and  a  little  congregation  was  collected,  who  seemed  to  have 
among  them  but  one  heart,  and  one  soul.  Like  the  primitive  Chris- 
tians, they  assembled  daily,  and  they  continued  from  house  to  house 
worshipping  the  only  true  God  their  Saviour.  On  recurrence  to  the 
journal  of  the  Preacher,  we  find  a  memorandum,  written  upon  his 
second  visit  to  Gloucester,  which  is  thus  worded  :  "  Here  my  God 
grants  me  rest  from  my  toils,  here  I  have  a  taste  of  heaven.  The  new 
song  is  sung  here,  and  WORTHY  is  THE  LAMB  constantly  dwells  upon 
their  tongues."  Mr.  Chandler's  meeting-house  was  not  closed  against 
the  Promulgator  of  glad  tidings,  until  some  time  in  January,  1775, 
upon  the  20th  of  which  month  he  made  a  second  journey  to  Newbury- 
port  and  Portsmouth.  Those  who  had  adhered  to  him  in  those 
towns,  having  ascertained  that  he  absolutely  believed  the  final  restitu- 
tion of  all  things,  united  with  the  many  in  the  most  unqualified  cen- 
sure. But  the  friends  he  had  lost,  particularly  in  Portsmouth,  were 
replaced  by  many  others,  among  whom  we  find  the  names  of  Judge 
and  Sheriff  Parker,  Atjunson,  Wentworth,  Austin,  Warner,  Sheafe, 
Langdon,  Sewall,  Brackett,  Whipple,  Thompson,  Turner,  Gardner, 
^  rassey,  Jackson,  &c.  &c.  The  heaven-instructed  preacher  continued 


196  «LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

many  years  an  occasional  visitor  in  Portsmouth,  where  his  labours 
were  greatly  blessed,  and  when  other  pulpits  were  closed  against  him 
in  that  metropolis,  the  doors  of  the  Episcopal  Church  was  open  for  his 
reception.  But  after  he  had.  repeatedly  lectured  in  that  church,  a  few 
persons  appeared  in  opposition,  and  we  have  this  moment  under  our 
eye,  an  original  writing,  addressed  to  the  Promulgator  upon  this  occa- 
sion ;  we  transcribe  a  verbatim  copy. — "  Whereas  it  is  represented  that 
some  objections  have  been  made  by  one,  or  more  persons,  belonging 
to  the  Church  called  Queen's  Chapel,  against  the  doors  thereof  being 
opened,  for  the  admission  of  Mr.  John  Murray  to  preach  the  Gospel  ; 
Wherefore,  we  the  subscribers,  proprietors,  and  parishioners  of  the 
Church  aforesaid,  having  taken  the  same  into  consideration — Do  (in 
order  to  remove  any  difficulties  that  might  arise  in  that  gentleman's 
breast  in  consequence  of  such  objections)  hereby  fully  declare  our  free 
will,  and  consent,  that  the  said  Church  be  opened  at  ALL  TIMES,  when- 
ever it  may  be  convenient  for  him  to  perform  divine  service  in  town, 
more  especially  during  his  present  stay  ;  and,  instead  of  deeming  it  an 
indulg*  nee  granted  him,  we  shall,  on  the  contrary,  acknowledge  it  a 
favour  conferred  on  us,  in  his  acceptance  of  this  invitation.  Ports- 
mouth, May  24,  1781.'* — Signed  by  twenty-four  of  the  leading  mem- 
bers of  the  Church  in  Portsmouth.  Our  Preacher  was  also  made 
the  instrument  of  irradiating  the  mind  of  an  exemplary  Philanthropist, 
Mr.  Noah  Parker,  now  in  regions  of  blessedness,  who  was  so  deeply 
penetrated,  as  to  present  himself  a  servant  of  the  living  God,  a  volun- 
tary Preacher  of  the  Gospel.  A  convenient  house  was  raised  for  his 
use,  by  the  brethren  in  Portsmouth,  and  he  continued,  until  his  de- 
parture out  of  time,  a  zealous  and  able  minister  of  the  Reconciliation. 

Attached  to  the  Gloucesterians,  Mr.  Murray  once  more  believed  he 
had  found  a  permanent  residence  ;  yet,  although  he  consented  to  con- 
sider that  place  as  his  home  ;  he  did  not  relinquish  the  persuasion  that 
his  commission  obliged  him  to  go  forth  a  preacher  of  the  Gospel,  wherev- 
er, and  whenever,  the  providence  of  God  might  seem  to  direct  him. 
The  inveteracy  of  his  enemies  in  the  town  of  Gloucester,  was  in  full 
proportion  to  the  attachment  of  his  friends,  and  every  mean  of  annoy- 
ance was  in  requisition.  The  spirit  of  liberty  mounted  very  high  in 
Gloucester,  and  for  the  purpose  of  influencing  the  ignorant,  the  teacher 
was  proclaimed  a  PAPIST,  sent  out  by  Lord  North,  to  aid  the  punvse 
of  an  obnoxious  ministry  ;  anathemas,  and  sometimes  stones,  followed 
his  steps  as  he  passed  the  streets  ;  a  town-meeting  was  called,  the  aim 
of  which  (lest  the  friends  of  the  promulgator  should  take  the  alarm)  was 


LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  197 

most  illegally  shrouded  in  silence,  and  a  vote  was  thus  surreptitiously 
obtained,  that  he  should  forthwith  depart  from  the  borders  of  Glouces- 
ter ;  of  this  vote  he  was  advertised  by  an  officer — let  us  not  say  of  jus- 
tice. Still,  however,  he  continued  witnessing  both  to  small  and  great, 
what  Moses  and  the  prophets  had  testified,  concerning  Jesus  of  Naza- 
reth, that  he  died  for  our  sins,  and  rose  again  for  our  justification.  The 
most  unwarrantable  means  were  employed,  old  slanders  were  resuscita- 
ted, and  new  accusations  brought  forward  ;  tales  which  had  been  re- 
peatedly confuted,  were  new  garbed,  and  sent  abroad,  swelling  the 
bosom  of  integrity  with  unutterable  anguish.  Among  countless  other 
calumnies  which  were  afloat,  a  story  was  embellished,  and  published, 
originally  propagated  by  one  Maxwell,  wherein  the  preacher,  the  lover 
of  the  Redeemer,  is  represented  as  treating  the  Eucharist  in  a  ludicrous 
manner !  although  the  gentleman — Mr,  afterwards  General  Greene,  at 
whose  house,  and  in  whose  presence,  the  irreverent  profanation  was 
said  to  have  taken  place — had  written  to  Doctor  S and  others,  com- 
pletely exonerating  the  accused.  Mr.  Murray's  sentiments  upon  the 
sacred  and  consolatory  ordinance  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  are  explained 
and  expatiated  upon,  in  his  Letters  and  Sketches  of  Sermons,  to  which 
the  interested  reader  is  referred.  It  cannot  be  denied,  that  characters 
generally  respectable,  combined  to  stimulate  the  mob  to  the  most  des- 
perate measures,  but  every  unwarrantable  project  was  frustrated.  The 
doors  of  the  meeting-house  being  now  closed,  the  parlours  of  respectable 
friends  bocame  the  places  of  assembling,  until  at  length  a  spacious 
room  was  consecrated  for  that  purpose.  Letters  of  excommunication 
were  now  addressed,  by  the  established  Minister,  to  seventeen  of  the 
most  respectable  Church  members,  and  this,  for  their  attachment  to  the 
Gospel  of  God  our  Saviour.  While  others,  availing  themselves  of  a 
Provincial  Law,  endeavoured  to  expel  the  Ambassador  of  their  God, 
as  a  Vagrant.  To  meet,  and  obviate  which  difficulty,  the  kind  friend 
under  whose  especial  patronage  he  then  was,  presented  him  with  a  deed 
of  gift,  which  constituted  him  a  freeholder  in  Gloucester.  The  months 
of  March  and  April,  in  this  year,  were,  by  the  Preacher,  devoted  to  vis- 
iting his  friends  in  Boston,  and  various  parts  of  Rhode  Island,  and 
toward  the  close  of  April,  he  returned  to  his  highly  favoured  home, 
rejoicing  that  the  zeal,  and  attachment  of  the  Gloucesterians,  were 
nothing  diminished,  and  their  meetings  for  scriptural  investigations  were 
joyfully  resumed.  In  the  month  of  May,  1775,  the  leading  officers 
of  the  Rhode  Island  Brigade,  assembled  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Bos- 
ton, despatched  a  respectable  messenger,  with  a  letter,  soliciting  the 

BB 


198  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

attendance  of  the  Promulgator,  as  chaplain  to  their  detachment  of  tin- 
Revolutionary  Army.     We  transcribe  a  verbatim  copy  of  this  letter. 

"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  AMIDST  that  concurrence  of  events  which  the  great  Creator  in  infi- 
nite wisdom  directs,  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  own  purposes,  a 
British  armament  hath  set  hostile  foot  upon  American  ground.  What 
the  design  of  the  Almighty  may  be,  we  cannot  at  present  absolutely 
determine.  One  thing  we  know,  our  cause  is  just,  and  also  that  the 
Parent  of  the  universe  can  do  no  wrong.  An  army  hath  been  raised 
in  this  Colony,  which  is  now  stationed  upon  Jamaica  Plains,  in  Rox- 
bury,  and  that  this  army  may  do  honour  to  themselves,  and  the  cause  in 
which  they  are  embarked,  it  is  requisite,  propriety  of  manners,  regularity 
of  conduct,  and  a  due  reliance  upon  the  Almighty  controller  of  events, 
should  be  cultivated  and  enforced.  The  most  probable  human  means 
we  can  devise  to  effect  an  object  so  ardently  to  be  desired,  consist  in  a 
decent,  sincere,  and  devout  attendance,  at  opportune  seasons,  upon 
divine  worhip.  We  have,  therefore,  selected  you,  as  a  Chaplain  to 
our  Brigade,  well  convinced  that  your  extensive  benevolence,  and  abili- 
ties, will  justify  our  choice.  We  cannot,  without  doing  violence  to  the 
opinion  we  have  formed  of  your  character,  doubt  of  your  ready  com- 
pliance with  our  united  request.  The  support  you  will  receive  shall 
exactly  correspond  with  your  feelings,  and  your  wishes.  We  are,  dear 

sir,  &c.  &c.  &c.  » 

Signed  in  behalf  of  the  Brigade, 

J.  N.  VARNUM. 
May  24,  1775. 

A  persuasion  that  he  could  be  of  more  use  in  the  army,  than  else- 
where, would  not  allow  the  Preacher  to  balance,  and,  accordingly  re- 
signing the  calm  recess  of  friendship,  he  presented  himself  in  the  Amer- 
ican camp,  and,  "  armed  with  the  sword  of  Jesse's  youthful  son,"  he 
was  indeed  most  ardently  engaged.  The  scene,  however,  was  not 
calculated  to  give  pleasure  to  a  philanthropist.  In  a  memorandum  of 
this  date,  he  thus  expresses  himself : — "  My  troubles  have  recom- 
menced ;  I  am  now  indeed  in  the  world,  and  shall  doubtless  encounter 
tribulation  ;  I  am  associated  with  an  ungovernable  set  of  people.  It 
is  true,  the  ofticers  are  gentlemen,  and  call  into  action  every  effort  to 
strengthen  my  hands  ;  but  the  soldiers — alas  1  the  fact  is,  I  am  not  in 
my  own  company."  Upon  the  3d  of  July,  the  chaplain  accompanied 
a  detachment  of  the  Brigade,  to  compliment  General  Washington,  upon 
his  arrival  to  take  the  supreme  command  of  the  army  at  Cambridge ; 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN   MURRAY.  199 

and  he  was  received  by  the  immortal  chief,  with  that  urbanity  which  he 
so  well  knew  to  practise.  The  subject  of  the  first  sermon,  preached  on 
sabbath  morning  at  the  Camp,  Jamaica  Plains,  was  Psalm  xliv.  1,2,  3, 
and  upon  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  the  last  verse  of  the  same  Psalm. 
The  Preacher  was  engaged  occasionally  at  Jamaica  Plains,  and  on 
Prospect  Hill.  Every  morning  at  7  o'clock,  he  met  the  several  Regi- 
ments upon  the  parade  ;  gradually  the  habits  of  swearing  and  the  rough 
manners  of  the  soldiery,  yielded  to  the  Christianized  eloquence  of  their 
Chaplain,  and  his  success  in  the  army  was  indeed  most  wonderful.  His 
benevolence,  and  benignity  while  there,  is  storied  by  many  a  tongue, 
we  indulge  ourselves  by  selecting  an  instance,  which  did  not  reach  our 
ears,  until  since  his  decease.  A  detachment  of  the  army  were  ordered 
to  march,  a  river  was  to  be  forded,  a  poor  soldier  in  years,  and  strug- 
gling with  sickness,  was  tottering  under  his  burden  :  the  preacher  in- 
stantly accoutred  himself  with  the  knapsack,  arms,  and  cartouch  box, 
and,  thus  arrayed,  proceeded  on,  while  the  sufferer  disencumbered,  pas- 
sed lightly  over.  The  writer  of  this  sketch,  could  furnish  a  series  of 
similar  anecdotes;  often,  when  his  finances  have  been  at  the  lowest  ebb, 
and  the  prodigious  expense  of  living  has  produced  distressing  embar- 
rassments, she  has  seen  him  extend  to  the  necessitous,  an  extricating 
hand,  and  he  not  only  indulged,  and  cherished,  but  invariably  stimula- 
ted every  charitable  purpose  of  her  soul. 

General  Washington,  honoured  the  preacher  with  marked,  and  uni- 
form attention  ;  the  Chaplains  of  the  army  united  in  petitioning  the 
Chief,  for  the  removal  of  the  promulgator  of  glad  tidings  ;  the  answer 
was  handed  them,  in  the  general  orders  of  the  ensuing  day,  which  ap- 
pointed Mr.  John  Murray,  Chaplain  of  the  three  Rhode  Island  Regi- 
ments, with  a  command  from  his  Excellency,  GEORGE  WASHINGTON, 
that  he  should  be  respected  accordingly.  Mr.  Murray's  commission 
was  made  out,  and  delivered  to  him,  when  inclosing  it  in  a  respectfully 
polite  letter  of  thanks,  he  returned  it  to  the  noble  minded  Chief,  earnest- 
ly requesting  permission  to  continue  in  the  army,  as  a  volunteer.  Gen- 
eral Washington,  after  perusing,  folded  the  paper,  and  observed  :  "  Mr. 
Murray  is  a  young  man  now,  he  will  live  to  be  old,  and  repentance 
will  be  the  companion  of  his  age."  The  preacher  lived  to  see  this  pre- 
diction fulfilled.  Had  he  embraced  the  rich  opportunity  then  present- 
ed he  might  have  continued  in  the  family  of  General  Greene,  whose 
friendship  was  unbroken,  and  where  his  abode  was  hailed  as  a  distin- 
guishing favour,  his  daily  ratio  would  have  augmented  for  his  emolu- 
ment, his  salary  would  have  accumulated,  he  would  have  retired  upon 


200  1IFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

half  pay,  or  commutation,  and,  during  the  years  of  languor,  and  de- 
crepitude, he  might  have  commanded  his  own  carriage,  and  servants  , 
but  the  reader  must  have  seen,  that  the  preacher  was  accustomed  to 
withdraw  from  the  approaches  of  affluence. 

Mr.  Murray  continued  in  the  army  so  long  as  his  health  would  per- 
mit, but  being  violently  seized  by  an  indisposition,  which  terminated 
in  a  bilious  fever  that  precipitated  him  to  the  gates  of  the  grave,  he  was. 
by  the  Physician  of  the  Brigade,  conducted  to  Gloucester  ;  and  no 
sooner  was  his  health  re-established,  than  his  strongest  feelings  were 
powerfully  excited,  by  the  sufferings  of  the  sons  and  daughters  of  want 
Jn  that  town.  War  of  any  description,  is  particularly  oppressive  to  its 
inhabitants,  seated  upon  the  margin  of  the  ocean,  their  subsistence  is 
principally  derived  from  the  deep.  The  rich  sources  of  Commerce, 
thrown  open  by  the  genial  hand  of  peace,  become,  to  the  hardy,  and  en- 
terprizing  Gioucesterian,  legitimate  objects  of  pursuit  ;  and  his  uniform, 
and  industrious  efforts,  are  crowned  by  competency.  But  whatever  ob- 
structs his  adventurous  plans,  inevitably  involves  him  in  distress,  and  the 
period  to  which  we  advert  was,  perhaps,  the  most  gloomy  of  any  during 
the  revolutionary  war.  It  had  continued  long  enough  to  try  without 
familiarizing  or  indurating  the  feelings,  and  hope  had  almost  become 
the  victim  of  despair.  The  humane  preacher  surveyed  those  multiplied 
children  of  penury — and  he  surveyed  them  with  a  philanthropic  eye  ; 
nor  was  this  all — commencing  a  journey  in  the  depth  of  a  severe  Win- 
ter, he  addressed  the  general  officers  in  the  American  army,  beginning 
with  their  revered  Chief,  and  extending  his  application  to  many  other 
gentlemen,  whose  confidence,  and  whose  friendship  he  enjoyed.  He 
-addressed  to  those  distinguished  individuals,  the  voice  of  supplication, 
and  so  successful  was  his  embassy,  that  he  returned  to  Gloucester  with 
a  large  sum  of  money,  which  he  converted  into  rice,  meal,  and  molasses, 
rendering  a  scrupulous  account  to  the  selectmen,  and  praying  them  to 
recommend  such  persons,  as  were  proper  objects  of  this  providential 
bounty  ;  the  whole  was  punctually  distributed,  and  many  sufferers 
most  essentially  relieved.  Yet  on  the  27th  day  of  February,  in  the 
succeeding  year,  1777,  we  find  this  same  feeling  solicitor,  summoned 
from  the  house  of  a  friend,  Mr.  Winthrop  Sargent,  where  he  was  suf- 
fering from  indisposition,  and  arraigned  at  the  bar,  of  the  then  commit- 
tee of  safety,  for  the  town  of  Gloucester.  Some  gentlemen  councelled 
him  to  disregard  the  summons,  especially  as  the  whole  committee  were 
not  assembled,  and  those  who  were  collected,  were  decidedly  his  in- 
veterate enemies, — but  he  answered,  that  possessing  a  consciousness  of 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  201 

innocence,  he  could  not  fear  the  face  of  man.  The  following  account 
of  the  extraordinary  proceeding  which  ensued,  is  from  the  minutes  of  a 
gentleman,  who  was  an  ear  witness  of  the  scene.  The  chairman  of  the 
committee  opened  the  business.  "  We  have  sent  for  you,  to  know 
who  you  are,  and  from  whence  you  came  ?"  "  Your  question  is  rather 
difficult, sir,  I  hardly  know  how  to  answer  you,  do  you  mean  where  did 
I  come  from  last  ?"  "  I  say  where  did  you  come  from."  "  I  have 
been  in  various  places  in  this  country  sir."  "  I  say  where  did  you 
come  from  when  you  came  into  this  country  ?"  "  From  England." 
"  From  what  part  of  England  ?"  "  London."  "  What  business  had 
you  to  come  to  this  country  ?"  "  Business,  sir  !  I  felt  disposed  to 
come,  and  came — "  "  What  business  have  you  in  this  town  ?"  "  The 
same  as  I  have  in  every  town  where  I  happen  to  sojourn."  Here  one 
of  the  committee,  arose,  and  requesting  leave  to  speak,  which  was  gran- 
ted, said  :  "  I  conceive  we  have  sent  for  this  man  to  know  from  whence 
he  came,  who  he  is,  and  what  business  he  has  here  ;  this  is  a  time  of 
difficulty,  we  are  at  variance  with  England,  he  calls  himself  an  En- 
glishman, we  do  not  know  what  he  is.  He  associates  with  a  great 
many,  whom  we  look  upon  as  enemies  to  this  country,  and  they  go  to 
hear  him,  converse— I  think — I  cannot  call  it  preaching"  Here  Mr. 
Murray  would  have  spoken,  but  he  was  imperiously,  not  to  say  impu- 
dently commanded  to  be  silent,  and  his  accuser  proceeded,  until  at 
length  the  chairman  again  resumed  :  "  Where  did  you  come  from  ? 
We  want  to  know  where  you  were  born,  and  brought  up  ?"  Mr. 
Murray  answered.  "  Gentlemen,  it  is  not  my  wish  to  give  you  un- 
necessary trouble.  I  was  born  in  England,  shortly  after  I  had  attained 
my  eleventh  year,  I  accompanied  my  father  to  Ireland,  where  I  contin- 
ued many  years  under  his  care  ;  when  I  was  between  19  and  20,  I  re- 
turned to  England,  where  I  abode,  living  generally  in  London,  until  I 
quitted  it  for  this  country.  Since  I  came  into  this  country,  my  resi- 
dence has  been  in  Maryland,  Pennsylvania,  the  Jerseys,  New- York, 
Connecticut,  Rhode  Island,  Massachusetts,  and  New-Hampshire." 
"  What  did  you  come  into  this  country  for  ?"  "  In  pursuit  of  retire- 
ment, but  concurrent  circumstances  rendered  me  a  preacher."  "  Have 
you  any  credentials  ?"  "  Yes  sir."  "  Show  them."  I  have  none 
present,  there  are  many  in  this  town  who  have  heard  me,  arid  received 
my  testimony  ;  they  arc  my  credentials.  "  Ay,  that  is  nothing — you 
see  he  has  no  authority.'  How  could  you  think  of  preaching  without 
authority  ?"  "  When  I  came  into  this  country  there  was  no  war,  I 
believed  it  to  be  a  land  of  civil,  and  religious  liberty — every  charter. 


202  LIFE    OP    KEY.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

and  every  Law  made  among  yourselves,  breathed  a  spirit  of  toleration, 
I  felt  assured  I  should  be  allowed  liberty  of  conscience,  my  intentions 
were  upright ;  a  conviction  that  God  had  ordained  me  to  proclaim  the 
go-pel,  has  been  powerfully  impressed  upon  my  mind,  and  I  am  still 
convinced,  that  I  ought  to  preach  the  Gospel."  "  How  long  do  you 
intend  to  stay  in  this  town  ?"  "  I  do  not  precisely  know  ;  but  certain- 
ly until  the  weather  and  roads  shall  be  good."  "  The  weather  will  do, 
and  it  is  pretty  good  travelling  now."  (At  this  time  the  winter  having 
been  extremely  severe,  the  roads  were  nearly  impassable.)  "  I  do  not 
believe  I  shall  quit  Gloucester  until  April,  about  that  time  I  expect  to 
commence  a  journey  to  Philadelphia."  "  The  town  is  very  uneasy 
at  your  continuance  here,  and  we  are  a  committee  of  safety.  We  are 
to  take  up  all  strangers  and  send  them  out  of  town."  "  Sir,  I  have  al- 
ready been  warned  out  of  town,  and  if  you  be  apprehensive  of  my  be- 
coming a  charge,  I  can  procure  bonds."  One  of  the  committee  ad- 
dressed the  chair  for  liberty  to  speak,  which  having  obtained,  he  said  : 
"  Your  stay  in  this  town,  is  cause  of  uneasiness  to  many,  you  hurt  the 
morals  of  the  people,  and  a  great  many  who  hear  you  are  enemies  to 
the  country."  Mr.  Murray  responded — "  Those  who  hear  me,  and 
believe  what  I  deliver,  can  never  be  injured  in  their  morals."  "  I  do 
not  believe  you."  "  You  have  not  heard  all  I  have  said  in  defence  of 
my  persuasion."  "  I  have  heard  enough,  I  neither  believe,  nor  like  it" 
"  Well,  sir,  there  is  no  act  of  assembly  to  compel  you  to  hear  ;  but  you 
should  remember  your  neighbour  is  entitled  to  equal  liberty  with  your- 
self." "  You  deliver  very  erroneous  principles."  "  My  principles  are 
all  to  be  found  in  the  sacred  records  of  divine  truth."  "  Ay,  so  you 
say."  "  I  was  not  apprized  that  I  was  cited  before  a  spiritual  court." 
Mr.  Murray  then  addressed  the  chair — "  Sir,  this  gentleman  asserts  that 
I  associate  with  a  great  many  enemies  of  this  country.  I  demand  that 
they  be  pointed  out.  If  I  associate  with  an  individual  of  this  de- 
scription, it  is  unknown  to  me."  A  gentleman  at  the  chairman's  elbow 
observed  :  "  Mr.  chairman,  I  think  we  have  no  business  to  answer  this 
man  a  single  question,  we  did  not  send  for  him  to  answer  his  questions, 
but  to  ask  questions  of  him."  The  chairman  then  repeated,  that  the 
town  were  very  uneasy,  and  advised  Mr.  Murray  to  depart  to  prevent 
further  trouble,  to  which  he  answered.  "  Sir,  I  have  been  nearly  seven 
years  in  this  country,  perhaps  no  one  has  a  more  extensive  acquaintance, 
I  have  many  friends,  and  many  enemies.  I  feel  that  I  am  a  friend  to 
all  mankind,  and  I  am  happy  that  no  circumstance  of  my  life  can  prove 
the  contrary.  I  was  invited  to  this  town,  and  1  have  been  cordially 
received,  but  it  seems  I  am  suspected,  because  I  associate  with  many 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  203 

who  are  enemies  to  this  country.  I  associate  with  Captain  W.  S.. 
pray  is  he  an  enemy.  During  my  residence  in  this  place,  I  have  never 
heard  a  syllable  uttered -w«\ich  this  committee  ought  to  consider  as  rep- 
rehensible. I  am  not  acquainted  with  a  single  individual  who  appears 
to  me  an  enemy  to  this  country ;  two  or  three  worthy  characters  I 
know,  who  do  not  perfectly  approve  every  measure  which  has  been 
adopted.  I  have  recently  endeavoured  to  recollect  how  many  gentle- 
men, the  circle  of  my  connexions  from  Maryland  to  New  Hampshire 
contained,  who  were  suspected  of  being  unfriendly  to  the  present  order 
of  things,  and  I  could  number  but  five  persons,  not  an  individual  of 
whom  has  ever  been  proved  inimical  to  American  prosperity.  For 
myself,  I  rejoice  in  the  reflection,  that  I  am  a  staunch  friend  to  liberty, 
genuine  liberty.  It  is  well  known  that  I  have  laboured  to  promote  the 
cause  of  this  country,  and  I  rejoice  that  I  have  not  laboured  in  vain. 
I  am  so  well  known,  and  I  have  the  happiness  to  be  so  well  respected, 
that  his  Excellency,  General  Washington,  appointed  me  to  officiate  as 
Chaplain  to  several  Regiments.  I  should  have  imagined  this  fact  wrotild 
have  been  sufficient  CREDENTIALS  HERB.  I  have  injured  no  person 
in  this  town,  I  am  invited  to  meet  my  friends,  in  the  house  of  a  friend, 
where  they  desire  me  to  read  the  Bible,  to  comment  thereon,  and  to 
unite  with  them  in  solemn  prayer  to  Almighty  God,  for  the  continuance 
of  his  mercies  to  us,  as  a  people,  and  not  unto  us  only,  but  to  a  once 
lost,  and  now  redeemed  world."  A  member  of  the  committee  observ- 
ed, that  they  could  not  be  answerable  for  any  thing  that  might  be  done 
by  a  MOB,  and,  it  was  not  in  their  power  to  prevent  it,  if  he  did  not, 
without  delay,  leave  the  town.  Mr.  Murray  laying  his  spread  hand 
upon  his  breast,  answered  :  "  Sir,  I  feel  such  a  consciousness  of  inno- 
cence here,  that  I  know  not  what  it  is  to  fear.  It  is  with  perfect  com- 
posure that  I  commit  myself  to  God,  and  the  Laws  of  this  Common- 
wealth. If  I  have  broken  any  law,  let  me  be  punished  by  law  ;  but 
I  bless  God  I  am  not  a  lawless  person.  Sir,  I  am  a  stranger  to  fear,  I 
have  committed  no  action  worthy  of  punishment.  Sir,  I  know  not 
what  it  is  to  fear.  No  man  can  have  any  power  over  me,  except  it  be 
given  to  him  from  above,  no  injury  can  be  done  me,  but  by  the  permis- 
sion of  my  God.  But  I  am  not  afraid  :  the  worst  this  MOB  can  do,  is 
to  deprive  me  of  a  life,  which  I  have  been  many  years  quite  willing  to 
resign.  Sir,  I  commit  myself,  and  my  cause  to  the  Ruler  of  Heaven, 
and  of  Earth."  One  gentleman  observed,  that  the  rule  upon  Earth  was 
delegated  to  them,  or  words  to  that  effect — when  Mr.  Murray  replied : 
•*  Sir,  I  conceive  the  God  of  Heaven  is  the  only  Ruler  in  Heaven  above; 


204  'LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

and  in  Earth  beneath" — and,  addressing  the  chair  he  added  :  "  Sir,  1 
have  answered  every  question  you  have  thought  proper  to  ask — and  a* 
I  find  it  difficult  to  speak,  I  am  so  very  ill,  ^,,ill  take  leave  to  wish 
you  a  good  evening.  Gentlemen,  good  night" — when,  without  inter- 
ruption, he  departed. 

Alas  !  alas !  how  tyrannical  is  the  dominion  of  prejudice !  in  this 
instance  it  precipitated  men,  respectable  men,  who  in  the  common  oc- 
currences of  life,  had  uniformly  preserved  a  decent  reputation,  upon  a 
procedure  the  most  absurd  and  unwarrantable.  Interrogations  so  un- 
ceremoniously made,  to  a  person,  who,  as  the  almoner  of  his  God,  had 
ihe  preceding  year,  fed  large  numbers  of  their  almost  famished  poor, 
who  had  never  committed  any  act  of  violence,  or  discovered  the  small- 
est inclination  to  aid  the  enemies  of  the  new  world,  was,  as  we  trust, 
a  singular  outrage.  But  Mr.  Murray  was  a  Christian,  and  after  the 
way  that  they  called  heresy,  so  worshipped  he  the  God  of  his  fathers, 
he  could  not  therefore  be  allowed  to  merit  either  confidence  or  grati- 
tude. 

On  the  Christmas  day  of  1780,  Mr.  Murray  first  preached  in  «.  small, 
neat  building,  erected  for  his  use,  by  the  Gloucesterians.  His  adherents, 
associated  for  public  worship,  had,  as  they  believed,  organized  them- 
selves, and  solemnly  covenanting  together,  they  conceived  themselves 
an  INDEPENDENT  CHURCH  of  CHRIST.  A  writing  was  prepared,  signed 
by  every  individual  of  the  congregation,  in  which,  after  dilating  upon 
the  fundamental  principles  of  the  faith  they  had  embraced,  they  profess- 
ed to  acknowledge,  as  Christians,  no  Master  but  Jesus  Christ,  receiv- 
ing as  their  guide  in  spiritual  matters,  only  the  word  and  spirit  of  the 
Redeemer  ;  but  they  pledged  themselves  to  the  community  at  large, 
and  to  each  other,  to  yield  obedience  to  every  ordinance  of  man,  to  be 
peaceable  and  obedient  subjects  to  the  powers  ordained  of  God  in  all 
civil  cases.  But  as  subjects  of  that  King,  whose  kingdom  is  not  of  this 
world  ;  they  denied  the  right  of  any  human  authority  to  make  laws  for 
the  regulation  or  their  consciences  ;  they  rejoiced  in  the  liberty  where- 
with Christ  had  made  them  free,  and  they  determined  no  more  to  be 
entangled  by  any  yoke  of  bondage.  They  professed  a  disposition  to 
live  peaceably  with  all  men,  to  avoid  unnecessary  disputation  ;  and, 
should  they  be  reviled,  to  endeavour  in  patience  to  possess  their  souls. 
We  make  from  this  solemn  instrument  the  following  extract. 

"  As  an  INDEPENDENT  CHURCH  OF  CHRIST  thus  bound  together  by 
the  cords  of  His  love,  and  meeting  together  in  His  name,  we  mutually 
agree  to  receive  as  our  Minister,  that  is,  our  servant,  sent  to  labour 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  205 

amongst  us,  in  the  work  of  the  Gospel,  by  the  great  Lord  of  the  Vine- 
yard, our  friend  and  brother  JOHN  MURRAY.  This  we  do,  from  a  full 
conviction,  that  the  same  God,  who  sent  the  first  preachers  of  Jesus 
Christ,  sent  him  ;  and  that  the  same  Gospel  they  preached  we  have 
from  time  to  time  received  from  him.  Thus,  believing  him  a  Minister 
of  the  New  Testament,  constantly  declaring  the  whole  counsel  of 
God,  proclaiming  the  same  divine  truth  that  all  God's  holy  prophets 
from  the  beginning  of  the  world  have  declared  ;  we  cordially  receive 
him  as  a  messenger  from  God.  And  as  it  hath  pleased  God  to  open  a 
great,  and  effectual  door,  for  the  preaching  of  His  Gospel,  by  this  His 
servant,  in  sundry  parts  of  this  great  continent ;  whenever  it  shall  please 
hisj  and  our  divine  Master,  to  call  him  to  preach  the  everlasting  Gos- 
pel elsewhere,  we  will  wish  him  God  speed ;  and  pray  that  the  good 
will  of  Him,  who  dwelt  in  the  bush,  may  accompany  him,  and  make  his 
way  clear  before  him." 

Thus,  we  repeat,  the  little  congregation  in  Gloucester  considered 
themselves  an  INDEPENDENT  CHURCH  OF  CHRIST.  They  were  con- 
scioug  that  they  had,  in  every  instance,  demeaned  themselves  as  good 
citizens,  and  that  their  utmost  efforts  had  uniformly  been  embodied, 
for  the  advancement  of  the  public  weal ;  they  felt  themselves  deservedly 
invested  with  the  privileges  and  immunities  of  free  citizens,  entitled  to 
those  liberties,  with  which  God  and  nature  had  endowed  them,  and  which 
they  believed  to  be  secured  to  them  by  a  constitution  of  government, 
happily  established  by  the  people  of  this  commonwealth.  Dissenting 
essentially  from  the  doctrines  taught  by  the  established  minister,  they 
had  borne  an  early  testimony  against  his  settlement  ;  and  they  humbly 
hoped,  it  would  be  sufficient  for  them  to  believe  the  HOLY  SCRIPTURES, 
and  to  adopt  the  pure  system  of  morals  contained  therein,  as  the  rule  of 
their  conduct,  and  the  MAN  OF  THEIR  COUNSEL.  They  rejoiced  in  the 
liberty  of  free  inquiry,  guaranteed  by  the  strong  arm  of  government ; 
and  they  felicitated  themselves,  that  they  had  been  ushered  into  being 
at  a  time,  when  that  fearful  period  had  gone  by,  which,  arming  the 
Religionist  with  the  potent  vengeance  of  civil  authority,  wrapped  the 
whole  world  in  a  cloud  of  impenetrable  darkness,  debilitated  the  human 
intellect,  by  closing  the  door  of  free  inquiry,  and  gave  birth  to  eight 
hundred  years  of  ignorance,  and  barbarism,  unequalled  by  any  preced- 
ing era  ;  whence  arose  an  awful  chasm  in  the  history  of  the  world,  and 
men  ceased  to  think,  'because  thinking  was  a  crime.  The  Gloucesteri- 
ans  adopted  the  idea  of  a  respectable  writer,  who  considered  Ordination 
as  nothing  more  than  the  solemn  putting  a  man  into  his  place,  and 


LI  KB  OH  REV.  JOHN   MURRAY. 

office  in  the  Church,  a  right  to  which  he  had  obtained  by  previous 
election,  which,  together  with  iiis  voluntary  acceptance  of  such  election, 
became  a  legitimate  base,  upon  which  was  founded  the  relationship 
between  pastor  and  flock.  Thus,  as  the  word  ORDAIN  signifies  no 
more  than  to  APPOINT,  they  conceived  that  the  election,  and  not  the  lay- 
ing on  of  hands,  completed  the  ordination.  Reposing  upfjn  the  second 
and  third  article  in  the  declaration  of  rights,  the  Gloucesterians  exult- 
ingly  said  :  "  No  subject  shall  be  hurt,  molested,  or  restrained  in  his 
person,  liberty,  or  estate,  for  worshipping  God  in  the  manner,  and 
season,  most  agreeable  to  the  dictates  of  his  own  conscience ;  or  for  his 
religious  profession  or  sentiments,  provided  he  doth  not  disturb  the 
public  peace,  or  obstruct  others  in  their  religious  worship.  All  re- 
ligious societies  shall,  at  all  times,  have  the  exclusive  right  of  electing 
their  public  teachers,  and  of  contracting  with  them  for  their  support 
and  maintenance.  And  all  monies  paid  by  the  subject  to  the  support 
of  public  worship,  shall,  if  he  require  it,  be  uniformly  applied  to  the 
support  of  the  public  teacher,  or  teachers,  of  his  own  religious  sect  or 
denomination,  provided  there  be  any  on  whose  instwction  he  attends" 
But  while  the  Gloucesterians  were  confidingly  singing  a  requiem  to 
their  cares,  they  beheld,  to  their  great  astonishment,  and  no  small  dis- 
may, their  goods  seized  by  an  officer,  and  sold  at  auction,  for  the 
purpose  of  answering  the  demands  of  the  established  minister.  Arti- 
cles of  plate  from  one,  English  goods  from  another,  and,  from  a  third, 
the  anchor  of  a  vessel,  on  the  point  of  sailing. 

It  was,  as  we  believe,  in  the  autumn  of  1782,  that  this  act  of  violence 
look  place.  An  action  was  instituted  by  the  independent  church  of 
Christ  in  Gloucester.  Mr.  Murray  was  urged  to  allow  the  prosecution 
to  proceed  in  his  name.  His  reluctance  to  this  step  was  decided  and 
affecting.  He  had  passed  through  the  country  without  even  allowii  », 
or  accepting,  contributions ;  and,  to  be  considered  a  prosecutor  for 
monies,  said  to  be  due  to  him,  for  preaching  the  gospel,  which  ho  had 
determined  to  promulgate  free  as  the  light  of  heaven  !  the  very  idea 
was  a  stab  to  his  long  cherished  feelings  :  it  appeared  to  him  like  pros- 
trating the  integrity  of  his  character,  and  stripping  him  of  those  honours, 
which  he  had  fondly  hoped  would  remain  forever  unshorn.  The  situation 
of  his  mind,  upon  this  occasion,  may  be  gathered  from  two  extracts  of 
letters,  addressed  to  him  by  a  respectable  gentleman  :  "  You  know  the 
inducement  I  had  to  engage  in  this  cause  was  to  be  emancipated  from 
the  shackles  of  a  pontificate ;  and  my  aversion  was  ever  determined, 
from  having  the  suit  brought  in  your  name,  as  well  from  your  abhor- 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  207 

rencc,  as  that  the  result,  however  favourable,  would  not  establish  us 
upon  the  broad  base  of  genuine  freedom.  However,  I  am  now  con- 
vinced from  reflection,  that  our  cause  will  be  ruined,  unless  you  assume 
it.  Mr.  Hitchborne  was  clear  it  ought  to  have  been  in  your  name  be- 
fore; at  our  pressing  request,  he  drew  the  last  writ.  Mr.  Sullivan  has 
declared  it  must  be  in  your  name.  Mr.  Pynchon  (allowed  on  ail 
hands  to  be  deeply  versed  in  the  intricacies  of  the  law)  assured  a  gen- 
tleman, he  would  warrant  success,  and  even  undertake  the  conducting 
the  cause,  if  the  proper  use  were  made  of  your  name.  Mr.  Sewall's 
opinion  is  in  unison  with  Mr.  Pynchon.  I  hate  delay  and  indecision, 
and  shall  lament  if  chicane  and  political  views  must  prevail  over  the 
purest  intentions." 

To  this  letter  Mr.  Murray  responded,  in  terms  descriptive  of  much 
anguish  of  spirit,  and  his  sympathizing  friend  immediately  replied  : — 

"  I  essay  not  to  communicate  the  impression  which  your  letter  has 
made  upon  me  ;  would  that  pen  and  paper  were  adequate  to  express 
all  that  could  be  conveyed  by  the  tongue.  Shall  t  be  condemned  for 
being  of  an  unsteady  disposition,  or  shall  I  be  justified  in  my  change 
of  sentiment,  from  the  variety  of  events  ?  Be  it  as  it  may,  it  matters 
not;  your  letter  has  produced  another  alteration  in  my  mind  ;  your  con- 
flict between  the  resolution  you  have  taken,  and  the  interest  of  your 
friends,  which,  I  am  persuaded,  is  very  dear  to  you,  is  carried  on  in 
your  breast  to  a  degree  of  agony.  I  see  how  distressing  it  is  for  you, 
even  in  appearance,  to  stand  forth  and  contend  for  what  you  have  so 
nobly  held  in  sovereign  contempt.  In  this  point  of  view  it  ceases  to  be 
a  question.  Let  the  idea  of  interest  perish  ;  I  had  rather  a  large  part 
of  mine,  dear  as  it  is,  should  be  wrested  from  me,  than  that  you  should 
sacrifice  any  portion  of  your  peace,  or  your  honour ;  therefore,  I  en- 
treat you,  my  dear  sir,  do  no  violence  to  your  feelings.  Thank  God, 
the  truth  of  our  cause  does  not  depend  upon  the  decision  of  a  court  of 
judicature  ;  and  admit  the  worst,  it  is  only  what  we  are  bidden  to  ex- 
pect, that  this  world  is  opposed  to  the  other.  Justice,  however,  not- 
withstanding my  sympathy  for  you,  urges  me  to  repeat  that  our  lawyers 
see  no  rational  prospect  of  success,  but  from  your  becoming  a  PRINCI- 
PAL in  the  business.  If  you  can  bend  your  mind,  well ;  take  time  to 
deliberate :  delays  in  law,  perhaps,  are  not  so  dangerous  as  in  other 
affairs;  at  any  rate,  I  entreat  you  to  become  more  tranquil ;  I  had 

rather  make  payment  to  parson  F than  that  you  should  thus 

suffer." 


20S  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

The  preacher,  under  the  direction  of  many  importuning  friends, 
loaned  his  name,  which  step  was  to  him  a  permanent  subject  of  regret. 
Trials  succeeded  trials,  review  after  review,  at  Salem,  and  at  the 
supreme  judicial  court,  held  at  Ipswich,  in  1783,  1784,  and  1785. 

The  pleaders  seemed  an  invincible  phalanx,  and  the  mind-bending 
eloquence  of  the  honourable  Mr.  King  was  indeed  a  most  potent  aid. 
Men  characterized  the  oratory  of  that  gentleman,  as  persuading,  com- 
manding, and  like  an  irresistible  torrent,  bearing  down  every  obstacle. 
Many  of  the  senior  advocates  seemed  so  to  feel,  and  acknowledge  the 
superiority  of  Mr.  King,  as  to  surrender  to  him  the  right  of  closing 
causes  of  great  importance ;  and  a  high  law  character  declared,  that,  had 
he  a  cause  depending,  of  the  greatest  intricacy  and  magnitude,  to  be 
plead  before  the  first  tribunal  in  the  world,  he  would  prefer  Mr.  King 
as  his  advocate,  to  any  man  he  had  ever  heard  speak.  Previous,  how- 
ever, to  the  adjudication  of  1785,  when  a  verdict  in  favour  of  the 
plaintiffs,  by  the  suffrage  of  the  jury,  (exclusive  of  the  judges)  was 
obtained,  the  political  career  of  this  celebrated  character  removed  him 
from  their  counsel,  and  their  cause  was  committed  to,  and  ably  sup- 
ported by,  Mr.  afterwards  Governor  Sullivan,  and  Judge  Tudor.  The 
late  Chief  Justice  Parsons,  and  Mr.  Bradbury  were  counsel  for  the 
defendants.  The  Gloucesterians,  in  their  appeal  to  the  "  impartial 
public,"  pertinently  observed  that  the  decision  of  the  question,  agitated 
respecting  them,  ultimately  involved  every  citizen  of  the  common- 
wealth, and  instantly  affected  the  several  religious  orders  of  Episco- 
palians, Baptists,  Presbyterians,  Sandemanians,  Quakers,  and  every 
other  denomination  of  Christians,  who,  in  this  state,  were  called 
sectaries. 

Upon  the  objection,  that  their  teacher  was  not  a  preacher  of  piety, 
religion,  and  morality,  they  mildly  observed  :  They  were  not  convinced 
that  the  question  could  be  determined  from  a  revision  of  the  motives  he 
offered  as  to  the  rewards  which  are  to  be  bestowed,  or  punishments 
inflicted  in  another  world  ;  they  rather  supposed  it  should  be  decided 
upon  the  evidence  of  his  urging  the  people  to  piety  and  morality,  as  the 
foundation  of  the  greatest  good  of  which  their  natures  were  capable, 
and  as  a  compliance  with  the  will  of  their  Almighty  Creator  and  Pre- 
server. They  believed,  that  the  scriptures  affirmed,  that  God  would 
punish  men  for  sin,  even  in  this  world,  in  a  manner  which  would  far, 
very  far  overbalance  the  pleasures  to  be  derived  from  vice.  They  con- 
ceived, that  the  idea  that  it  was  necessary  to  the  good  order  of  govern- 
ment, that  the  teachers  of  religion  should  thunder  out  the  doctrine  of 


.te  of 
*fl 

i  was 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  209 

everlasting  punishment  to  deter  men  from  atrocious  crimes,  which  they 
might  otherwise  commit  in  secret,  had  long  been  hackneyed  in  the  hands 
of  men  in  power,  but  without  any  warrant  from  reason  or  revelation. 
Reason,  without  the  aid  of  revelation,  gave  no  intimation  of  a  state 
retribution  beyond  the  grave  ;  and  the  gospel  brought  life  and  imi 
tality  to  light :  nor,  said  they,  was  it  until  the  Christian  church 
illegally  wedded  to  state  policy,  that  men  in  power  dared  to  hurl  the 
thunders  of  the  Most  High,  at  those  who  offended  against  government. 
But,  they  added,  should  the  point  be  maintained,  that  courts  and  jurievs 
are  authorized  to  determine,  whether  the  teacher  of  a  religious  sect  is  a 
teacher  of  morality,  from  his  opinion  either  of  the  cause,  mode,  or  state 
of  men's  happiness  or  misery  in  another  world,  or  from  his  opinion  of 
the  nature,  or  proportion  of  the  rewards  for  virtue,  or  the  punishments 
for  vice  in  a  future  state,  no  sect  or  denomination  could  be  s^fe,  it  be- 
ing a  matter  resting  on  opinion  only,  without  any  earthly  tribunal  hav- 
ing the  ability  or  authority  to  settle  the  question.  Suppose  an-  Episco- 
palian teacher  should  have  an  action  in  his  name  to  recover  the  money, 
paid  by  his  hearers.  Perhaps  he  might  be  one,  who  had  subscribed  and 
sworn  to  the  thirty -nine  articles,  the  truth  of  which  is  well  supported  bij 
act  of  parliament :  an  objection  might  be  made  from  one  of  the  articles, 
that  tells  us,  God  from  all  eternity  elected  a  certain  number  to  happiness, 
and  predestinated  all  the  rest  of  the  human  race  to  everlasting  misery  ; 
and  this  of  his  own  sovereign  will,  without  any  regard  to  the  merit  of 
the  one,  or  the  demerit  of  the  other.  A  jury  might  be  found,  who  would 
decide  at  once,  that  this  doctrine  is  subversive  of  all  morality  and  good 
order  ;  for,  if  the  state  of  every  man  be  unalterably  fixed  from  all  eter- 
nity, and  nothing  done  by  him  can  in  any  wise  change  the  divine  de- 
cree, why,  then  the  elect  may  conceive  themselves  justified  in  seeking 
to  injure  those,  whom  God  from  eternity  has  consigned  to  perdition. 

But,  should  an  Arminian  be  in  trial,  and  it  appeared  he  taught  his 
people  it  was  within  their  own  power  to  procure  future  happiness,  a  jury 
might  not  be  able  to  distinguish  between  the  prescience  and  the  fore- 
ordination  of  God;  and  it  might  be  called  impiety  to  allege,  that  the 
infinitely  wise  Being  did  not  from  all  eternity  know  the  ultimate  fate  of 
all  his  creatures.  It  would  at  least  be  called  derogatory  to  the  honour 
of  the  Most  High,  to  suppose  any  thing  to  be  contingent  with  Him;  and 
therefore  a  teacher  of  such  principles  might  in  the  eye  of  some  persons  be 
viewed  as  a  teacher  of  impiety  and  immorality.  From  these  and  various 
other  considerations,  the  Gloucesterians  humbly  conceived,  that  religion 
•was  a  manor  between  an  individual  and  his  Hod  :  that  no  man  had  a  rightto 


210  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

dictate  a  mode  of  worship  to  another  ;  that,  in  that  respect,  every  man 
stood  upon  a  perfect  equality  ;  and  they  believed  that  the  paucity  ol 
their  numbers,  and  the  prejudices  of  their  enemies,  had  pointed  them 
out  as  proper  objects  for  the  first  essay  of  religious  tyranny ;  hence  they 
ther  chose  to  seek  redress  from  the  great  law,  made  by  the  people,  to 

vern  the  Legislature,  than  from  the  Legislature  itself;  believing  they 
should  betray  the  freedom  of  their  country,  if  they  timidly  shrunk 
from  a  trial,  upon  the  great  principles  of  the  constitution,  indeed  they 
seemed  to  consider  themselves  as  the  Hamdens  of  our  religious  world. 

In  the  course  of  the  month  of  September,  1785,  a  writ  of  review  wah 
again  served,  and  the  final  decision  was  referred,  and  deferred,  until  tha 
June  of  1786,  when  a  conclusive  verdict  was  obtained  in  favour  of  the 
plaintiffs.  Mr.  Murray  was  then  in  the  state  of  Connecticut.  We 
transcribe  an  extract  from  a  letter,  which  wafted  to  the  eye  and  ear  of 
the  promulgator  intelligence  of  the  emancipation  of  his  adherents. 

"  Last  Tuesday  our  party  with  their  cloud  of  witnesses  were  present, 
and  called  out  at  the  bar  of  the  Supreme  Judicial  Court.  The  cause 
was  opened  by  Mr.  Bradbury,  and  replied  to  by  Mr.  Hitchborne  ;  the 
court  adjourned  to  the  succeeding  morning.  I  arrived  just  in  season  to 
hear  it  taken  up  by  Mr.  Parsons,  and  closed  by  Mr.  Sullivan.  I  wish 
for  an  opportunity  to  render  my  acknowledgments  to  this  gentleman. 
He  displayed  upon  this  day  an  eloquence,  not  less  than  Roman.  The 
judges  summed  up  the  whole.  The  first  was  ambiguous,  the 
second  was  so  trammelled,  and  inarticulate,  as  to  be  scarcely  under- 
stood; but  the  remaining  three,  have  acquired  a  glory  which  will  be 
as  lasting  as  time.  The  conduct  of  Judge  Dana  attracted  particular 
notice.  You  may  remember  he  heretofore  laboured  against  us  ;  there 
appeared  a  disposition  to  traverse  our  counsel ;  in  his  comments  on  the 
constitution,  those  parts,  which  made  for  us,  he  turned  against  us  ;  he 
asserted  the  tax  was  not  persecuting,  but  legal ;  religious  societies  were 
bodies  corporate,  or  meant  to  be  so  ;  sect  and  denomination  were  pro- 
miscuously used  and  synonimous  :  and  the  whole  was  delivered  with  a 
sententious  gravity,  the  result  of  faculties,  laboriously  cultivated  by 
experience  and  study.  But  a  revolution  had  now  passed  in  his  mind, 
and  when  he  noticed  that  article  in  the  constitution,  which  directs 
monies  to  be  applied  to  the  teacher  of  his  own  religious  sect,  he  said, 
the  whole  cause  depended  upon  the  construction  of  that  clause.  He 
had  heretofore  been  of  opinion,  it  meant  teachers  of  bodies  corporate  ; 
he  then  thought  otherwise  ;  as  the  constitution  was  meant  for  a  liberal 
purpose,  its  construction  should  be  of  a  most  liberal  kind  ;  it  meant,  in 


MFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  211 

this  instance,  teachers  of  any  persuasion  whatever,  Jew  or  Mahometan. 
It  would  be  for  the  jury  to  determine,  if  Mr.  Murray  was  a  teacher  of 
piety,  religion,  and  morality  ;  that  matter,  he  said,  had  in  his  opinion 
been  fully  proved.  The  only  question  therefore  before  them  was, 
if  Mr.  Murray  came  within  the  description  of  the  constitution,  and  had 
a  right  to  require  the  money.  "  It  is  my  opinion,"  he  decidedly  de- 
clared, "  that  Mr.  Murray  comes  within  the  description  of  the  consti- 
tution, and  has  a  right  to  require  the  money."  The  jury  received  the 
cause,  and  departed  the  court  at  half  past  three.  In  the  evening  they 
returned,  with  a  declaration,  that  they  could  not  agree.  The  Chief 
Judge,  with  some  asperity,  ordered  them  to  take  the  papers  and  go  out 
again ;  they  continued  in  deliberation  through  the  whole  night.  Thurs- 
day morning  they  came  in  again,  declaring  their  unanimous  agreement, 
that  the  judgment  obtained  the  preceding  year  was  in  nothing  erro- 
neous. Thus  have  we  gained  our  Cause,  after  trials  of  such  expecta- 
tion and  severity.  We  rejoice  greatly.  It  is  the  Lord's  doings,  and 
marvellous  in  our  eyes." 

Mr.  Murray  continued  uniformly  to  devote  the  summer  months  to 
his  multiplied  adherents,  from  Maryland  to  New-Hampshire  ;  in  what 
manner,  is  copiously  described  in  his  Letters  and  Sketches  of  Ser- 
mons. In  the  February  of  1783,  we  find  the  Preacher,  as  usual, 
deeply  interested  in  the  cause  of  his  Great  Master,  and  suggesting,  in  a 
letter  to  his  friend  and  fellow-labourer,  Mr.  Noah  Parker,  the  propriety 
of  an  annual  meeting  of  the  heralds  of  redemption  ;  his  words  are  : 
;'  Indeed  it  would  gladden  my  heart,  if  every  one  who  stands  forth  a 
public  witness  of  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  could  have  an  opportunity 
of  seeing  and  conversing  one  with  another,  at  least  once  every  year.  I 
believe  it  would  be  attended  with  very  good  effects.  Think  of  it,  my 
friend,  and  let  me  know  the  result  of  your  deliberation.  I  think  these 
servants  of  the  Most  High  might  assemble  one  year  at  Norwich,  one 
year  at  Boston,  and  another  at  Portsmouth,  or  wherever  it  may  be  most 
convenient.  I  have  long  contemplated  an  association  of  this  descrip- 
tion ;  and  the  longer  I  deliberate,  the  more  I  am  convinced  of  the  util- 
ity which  would  be  annexed  to  the  regulation."  In  the  September  of 
1785,  the  Preacher,  writing  to  the  same  friend,  thus  expresses  himself: 
"  Although  very  much  indisposed,  I  am  commencing  a  journey  to  Ox- 
iord,  where  I  expect  to  meet  a  number  of  our  religious  brethren,  from 
different  towns,  in  which  the  gospel  has  been  preached  and  believed, 
for  the  purpose  of  deliberating  upon  some  plan,  to  defeat  the  designs  of 
our  enemies,  who  aim  at  robbing  us  of  jhe  liberty,  wherewith  the  con- 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

stitution  has  made  us  free.  On  my  return,  I  shall  communicate  to  you 
the  re«ult  of  our  meeting."  Upon  the  close  of  the  same  month  of  Sep- 
tember, he  thus  writes  :  "  Well,  I  have  been  to  Oxford,  and  the  assem- 
bly convened  there  was  truly  primitive.  We  deliberated,  first,  on  a 
^AME  ;  secondly,  on  the  propriety  of  being  united  in  our  common  de- 
fence ;  thirdly,  upon  the  utility  of  an  annual  meeting  of  representatives 
from  the  different  societies  ;  and  fourthly,  upon  keeping  up  a  constant 
correspondence  by  letter.  Each  of  these  particulars  are  to  be  laid  be- 
fore the  societies,  represented  by  their  delegates  on  this  occasion,  and,  if 
approved,  their  approbation  to  be  announced  by  circular  letters,  to  the 
several  societies.  Mr.  Winchester  delivered  a  most  excellent  sermon  : 
his  subject  was,  "  but  though  we,  or  an  angel  from  heaven,  preach  any 
other  gospel  unto  you,  than  that  which  we  have  preached  unto  you,  let 
him  be  accursed."  By  the  desire  of  Mr.  Winchester,  I  closed  the  sub- 
ject." 

Thus  was  a  convention  formed,  and,  we  may  add,  organized,  by  the 
Father  of  Universalism  in  this  country.  But,  alas  !  in  no  long  time, 
a  root  of  bitterness  sprang  up,  which  destroyed  his  pleasure  in  the  as- 
sociation. Yet,  in  the  last  stage  of  his  pilgrimage,  he  frequently  regret- 
ted, that  his  attendance  upon  this  convention  had  not  been  more  uni- 
form ;  as  he  might  possibly,  by  his  years  and  his  experience,  have  met 
and  obviated  the  difficulties  which  distressed  him.  Mr.  Winchester, 
searching  the  bible  for  arguments  to  confute  Mr.  Murray,  became  him- 
self a  Universalist,  but  he  was  a  Universalist  of  the  CHAUNCIAN  school. 
He  was  a  man  of  pure  morals,  and  an  ardent  lover  of  the  Redeemer. 

At  this  period,  in  addition  to  the  houses  erected  in  Gloucester,  and 
in  Portsmouth,  a  convenient  place  for  public  worship  was  procured  by 
the  Universalists  in  the  city  of  Philadelphia  ;  and,  in  the  city  of  New- 
York,  a  church  had  been  purchased,  which  they  forbore  to  open,  until 
^t  could  be  dedicated  by  the  peace-speaking  voice  of  the  Promulgator. 
In  the  course  of  the  autumn,  or  winter  of  1785,  the  Bostonians  pur- 
chased a  meeting-house  in  Bennet-street.  This  house  they  enlarged 
and  beautified  ;  here  Mr.  Murray  was  occasionally  their  officiating 
minister.  And  in  the  metropolis  of  Pennsylvania,  New-York,  and 
Massachusetts,  he  was  earnestly  solicited  to  take  up  his  residence. 

Previous  to  the  decision  obtained  by  the  Gloucesterians,  a  prose- 
cution was  commenced  against  their  Preacher,  for  performing  the  mar- 
riage ceremony.  Persuaded  that  he  was  commissioned  by  his  God  to 
preach  the  gospel,  and  knowing  that  he  was  ordained  by  the  people  to 
whom  he  administered,  he  believed  himself  authorized  to  receive  the 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  213 

nuptial  vows  of  as  many  among  his  adherents,  as,  furnished  with  the 
requisite  certificates,  made  application  to  him  for  this  purpose.  A  sin- 
gle instance  was  selected  by  his  implacable  foes,  and  a  special  verdict 
obtained,  which  condemned  the  Preacher  to  pay  a  fine  of  fifty  pounds. 
But  this  was  not  all  ;  he  had  frequently  performed  the  marriage  cere- 
mony. Prosecution  would  most  unquestionably  succeed  prosecution ; 
and  the  sum  total  of  multiplied  amercements  would  involve  difficulties 
not  easily  surmounted.  Prudence  whispered  the  persecuted  man  of 
God,  that  he  ought  to  absent  himself  until  the  interference  of  the  Le- 
gislature could  be  obtained  ;  and  inclination  pointed  his  way  over  the 
pathless  deep,  for  the  purpose  of  once  more  visiting  his  native  shores, 
holding  sweet  converse  with  a  few  select  friends,  and  folding  to  his  filial 
bosom  his  venerable  mother.  Assured  of  the  propriety  of  a  step  so 
important  to  his  numerous  American  connexions,  on  the  6th  of  Janu- 
ary, 1788,  he  embarked  for  England.  Noble  provision  was  made  for 
him  by  the  Bostonians,  and  all  the  expenses  of  the  voyage  defrayed. 
Russell,  the  benevolent  Russell,  was  his  friend.  Russell  the  philan- 
thropist ;  who,  like  his  God,  delighted  in  speaking  peace  to  the  sons 
and  daughters  of  adversity.  Dear,  sympathising  friend  of  man  1  to  the 
children  of  sorrow  thy  memory  is  right  precious.  Had  thy  stinted 
abilities  been  commensurate  with  thy  will,  the  voice  of  gladness  would 
have  resounded  in  every  dwelling.  Nor  Russell  alone :  many  pressed 
forward,  whose  liberal  hearts  devised  liberal  things ;  and  substantial 
manifestation  of  affection  to  the  preacher  were  abundant  and  mu- 
nificent. 

During  Mr.  Murray's  absence,  the  Legislature  was  addressed.  We 
regret  that  we  cannot  exhibit  a  complete  copy  of  the  petitions  which 
were  presented,  but  such  extracts,  as  we  can  command,  we  transcribe  : 

"  To  the  Honourable  Senate,  and  the  House  of  Representatives  of 
the  commonwealth  of  Massachusetts,,  assembled  in  Boston,  in  February, 
]  788 ;  John  Murray,  of  Gloucester,  in  the  county  of  Essex,  would 
humbly  represent  to  your  Honours,  that  about  seventeen  years 
ago,  he  came  into  this  country,  which  he  considered  as  the  asylum 
of  religion  and  benevolence  ;  that  on  his  arrival  he  began  to  preach  the 
gospel  of  peace,  in  doing  which  he  met  with  many  cordial  friends  ; 
some  of  whom,  namely,  a  society  of  Christians  in  Gloucester,  distin- 
guished themselves  by  their  uniform  attachment  to  the  message,  and  the 
messenger;  and  after  your  Petitioner  had  occasionally  laboured  among 
them,  for  a  considerable  time,  they  associated  together  as  an  Independ- 
ent Church,  built  a  meeting-house,  and  invited  your  petitioner  to  reside 


214  llFK  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

with  them,  as  their  settled  minister  ;  and,  in  the  month  of  December,  in 
the  year  1780,  did.  appoint,  set  apart,  and  ordain  him  to  the  work 
of  the  ministry,  and  to  be  their  teacher  of  piety,  religion,  and 
morality  ;  that  ever  since  that  period,  he  has  considered  himself,  and 
has  been  considered  by  the  people  he  has  statedly  laboured  amongst, 
as  their  ordained  minister,  and  though  your  petitioner  has,  on  sundry 
occasions,  visited,  and  laboured  amongst  his  Christian  friends,  in  other 
places,  it  has  always  been  with  the  consent  of  his  people,  they  still 
looking  on  him,  and  he  on  himself,  as  their  ordained  minister.  It  also 
appears,  that  the  people,  among  whom  your  petitioner  has  frequently 
laboured,  have  considered  him  in  the  same  light ;  as  they  have  formally 
requested  license  of  his  people  of  Gloucester,  who,  after  consultation, 
granted  that  license.  Another  circumstance,  that  tended  to  confirm  your 
petitioner  in  the  belief  of  his  being  an  ordained  minister  in  the  strictest 
sense  of  the  word,  and  according  to  the  letter  and  spirit  of  the  law,  was 
the  verdict  given  in  favour  of  him  and  his  people,  by  the  Honourable 
Supreme  Court  and  jury,  when,  after  suffering  much  abuse  from  their 
persecuting  opponents  in  Gloucester,  they  were  reduced  to  the  necessity 
of  applying  to  the  laws  of  their  country,  for  redress  and  protection. 
But  their  opponents,  dissatisfied  with  the  verdict  then  obtained,  demand- 
ed a  review ;  after  which  review,  the  former  verdict  was  confirmed  by  the 
full,  and  decided  opinion  of  the  honourable  court  given  in  their  favour. 
"  Being  thus  by  constitutional  right,  and  legal  decision,  established  as 
an  independent  minister,  settled  with,  and  ordained  by,  the  joint  suffra- 
ges of  the  members  of  that  Religious  Society,  your  petitioner  supposed 
his  troubles  from  his  persecuting  enemies  were  at  an  end.  And  upon 
consulting  council  learned  in  the  law,  who  gave  it  as  their  decided 
opinion  that  he  was  an  ordained  minister,  he  proceeded  to  perform  the 
ceremony  of  marriage  to  such  of  his  hearers,  who  made  application  to 
him  for  that  purpose.  But  some  of  his  opponents,  unacquainted  with 
the  independent  mode  of  ordination,  and  presuming  your  petitioner 
was  not  ordained,  because  the  same  ceremonies  were  not  made  use  of 
in  his  ordination,  to  the  use  of  which  they  were  accustomed,  brought  the 
question  of  your  petitioner's  right  of  officiating  as  an  ordained  minister, 
before  the  Judges  of  the  Supreme  Judicial  Court,  who  gave  it  as  their 
opinion,  that  he  was  not  an  ordained  minister,  in  the  sense  of  the  law, 
as  the  forms  of  his  ordination  were  not  sufficienly  notorious.  Your  pe- 
titioner, and  the  people  who  ordained  him,  conceived  his  ordination 
was  sufficiently  notorious,  as  the  article  was  subscribed  by  every  mem- 
ber of  the  society  ;  and  the  honourable  court  considered  him  a  public 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  215 

teacher  of  Piety,  Religion,  and  Morality.  The  recent  adjudication  of 
the  honourable  Judges  has  involved  your  petitioner's  little  flock,  in 
Gloucester,  in  expense,  and  exquisite  distress,  and  your  petitioner  is 
ruined,  unless  your  honours  can  interfere  for  his  relief.  He  must  not 
only  satisfy  the  heavy  penalty  already  forfeited,  to  his  said  opponents, 
and  prosecutors,  but  he  is  liable  to  repeated  forfeitures  of  like  penalties 
for  every  marriage  he  has  performed,  since  he  has  conceived  himself  the 
ordained  minister  of  that  people,  which  must  involve  his  friends  in  ex- 
pense, or  consign  him  to  a  gaol.  Nor  is  this  all ;  supposing  his  ordi- 
nation invalid,  he  is,  by  the  letter  of  the  law,  liable  to  ignominious  pun- 
ishment. Now,  as  equity  is  said  to  be  that  interference  of  the  supreme 
power,  which  alleviates,  where  the  law,  by  being  too  comprehensive, 
has  involved  a  case,  to  which  it  was  not  perhaps  meant  to  extend  ;  and 
as  he,  and  his  people,  his  council,  and  the  world  at  large,  supposed  him 
ordained,  as  much  as  an  Episcopalian,  or  any  other  teacher,  however 
different  the  mode  of  ordination,  he  most  humbly  prays  your  honoursp 
to  indemnify  him  for  any  farther  prosecution,  for  any  marriage  he  may 
have  solemnized,  under  his  supposed  right ;  and  by  this  means  rescue 
him  from  the  persecuting  power  of  his  malignant  adversaries,  restore 
the  exercise  of  religious  rites  to  his  oppressed,  and  afflicted  people,  es- 
tablish in  the  Commonwealth,  in  which  he  has  long  had  his  residence, 
that  peace  which  has  been  broken  by  the  malice  of  his  enemies.  Your 
petitioner  would  in  person  have  waited  on  such  committee  of  your 
honours,  as  may  be  appointed  to  consider  this  petition,  but  his  well 
grounded  fears  that  prosecutions  would  be  multiplied  upon  him,  by  the 
zeal  of  his  religious  adversaries,  has  necessitated  him  to  absent  himself 
from  the  country  of  his  adoption,  and  his  dear  people,  until  such  time 
as  the  clemency  of  your  honours  might  be  obtained  in  his  behalf." 

The  Congregation  in  Gloucester,  addressed  the  Legislature  in  a  sep- 
arate petition,  and  the  Judges,  Sullivan  and  Dawes,  co-operated  with 
Mr.  Russell,  in  persevering  efforts  to  obtain  a  decision.  The  petitions 
were  referred  to  a  committee  of  three  gentlemen,  of  great  respectability, 
who  speedily  prepared,  and  handed  in  their  report,  which  was  laid  upon 
the  speaker's  table,  whence  it  was  drawn  forth  by  the  speaker  of  the 
House,  James  Warren,  esq.  accepted  by  a  handsome  majority,  and 
sent  up  to  the  Senate  for  concurrence.  The  report  was  called  up  from 
the  President's  table,  by  the  Honourable  Mr.  Dalton,  when,  after  a  de- 
bate of  two  hours,  it  passed  the  Senate,  almost  unanimously.  This 
most  acceptable  result  was  made  known  to  the  deeply  interested  Glou- 
cesterians,  by  a  writing,  of  which  the  following  is  a  verbatim  copy  :  -- 


LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

COMMONWEALTH  OF  MASSACHUSETTS. 

In  the  House  of  Representatives,  March  \7th,  1788. 

"WHEREAS  John  Murray,  and  others,  have  represented  to  this  court, 
that  the  said  Murray,  esteeming  himself  legally  qualified,  had  solem- 
nized certain  marriages,  and  that,  by  a  decision  had  in  the  Superior  Ju- 
dicial Court,  it  was  determined  that  the  said  Murray  had  no  such  au- 
thority, praying  that  he  may  be  indemnified.  Resolved,  that  the  said 
John  Murray,  be,  and  he  hereby  is,  indemnified  from  all  the  pains,  and 
penalties,  which  he  may  have  incurred  on  account  of  having  solemnized 
any  marriages,  as  aforesaid,  for  which  there  has  not  been  any  prosecu- 
tion commenced,  or  had  ;  and  the  said  Murray  may,  upon  trial  for  any 
of  the  offences  aforesaid,  give  this  resolution  in  evidence,  upon  the  gen- 
eral issue,  which  shall  have  the  same  operation,  as  if  specially  pleaded. 
Sent  up  for  concurrence.  JAMES  WARREN,  Speaker. 

In  Senate,  March  Will,  1788. 
Read  and  concurred.  SAMUEL  ADAMS,  President. 

Approved,  JOHN  HANCOCK. 

True  copy ;  attest, 
JOHN  AVERY,  JUN.  Secretary. 

Meantime,  the  persecuted,  and  now  NOBLY  REDRESS  ED 'promulgator, 
was  speeding  across  the  great  waters.  His  passage  over  the  Atlantic 
was  uncommonly  boisterous ;  the  European  winter  of  this  year  was 
very  severe.  More  navigation,  and  lives,  were  lost,  in  the  January  and 
February  of  1788,  upon  the  tremendous  coast  of  Cornwall,  dfcpi  had 
ever  before  been  known,  in  any  one  season.  At  length,  however,  the 
Chalky  Cliffs  of  his  native  shore  met  his  gladdened  view,  and  the  heav- 
en-protected vessel  cast  anchor  in  the  commodious  harbour  of  Falmouth. 
Mr.  Murray  was  an  entire  stranger  to  this  part  of  England  ;  but,  by 
the  Bostonians  and  Gloucesterians,  he  had  been  furnished  with  recom- 
mendatory letters,  thus  worded — 

"  WE,  the  Subscribers,  members  of  the  Christian  Independent 
Church  in  Boston,  do,  on  behalf  of  ourselves  and  our  brethren,  by  these 
presents,  certify  to  all  whom  it  may  concern,  that  the  bearer,  Mr.  John 
Murray,  (settled  Minister  of  the  Independent  Church  in  Gloucester) 
for  more  than  fourteen  years  past,  hath  occasionally  laboured  among  us, 
in  this  place,  much  to  the  edification,  and  consolation  of  God's  people  ; 
and  we  bless  God,  therefore,  and  most  sincerely  pray,  that  the  good  will 
of  Him  who  dwelt  in  the  Bush  may  accompany  him  on  his  way,  and 


fclFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  217 

bring  him  back  to  his  numerous  friends,  richly  laden  with  the  blessings* 
of  the  Gospel  of  peace." 

"  Signed  by  the  most  respectable  members  of  the  Church." 

Gloucester,  January  4th,  1788. 

"  Be  it  known  universally,  that  WE  the  elders,  on  behalf  of  the  Inde- 
pendent Church  of  Christ  in  Gloucester,  do  certify  that  the  bearer,  Mr. 
John  Murray,  is,  and  has  been  for  many  years  past,  our  ordained  min- 
ister, and  we  pray  God  to  preserve  him,  and  return  him  to  us  in  safety." 
(Signed)  WINTHROP  SARGENT, 

EPES  SARGENT, 
DAVID  PLUMMER. 

Mr.  Murray  was  received  in  Falmouth,  with  fraternal  kindness.  The 
Sunday  succeeding  his  arrival,  the  pulpit  of  a  gentleman,  once  in  connec- 
tion with  Mr.  Whitefield,  was  thrown  open  to  him,  where  he  preached 
forenoon  and  afternoon,  and  continued  delivering  evening  lectures  until 
February  14,  when  he  resumed  his  journey  by  land,  to  London,  pro- 
claiming glad  tidings  from  the  pulpits,  as  he  passed  along,  to  which  free 
access  was  granted  him  ;  at  Truro,  Cheswater,  Tregony,  Mevegessey, 
St.  Austle,  Looe,  in  the  several  churches  at  Plymouth,  and  Plymouth 
Dock,  Exeter,  Wellington,  &c.  &c.  he  delivered  his  God-honouring, 
man-restoring  message.  Several  clergymen  always  attended  his  lec- 
tures, and  one  gentleman  accompanied  him  even  to  Exeter.  We  select 
a  few  of  the  subjects,  upon  which  he  delighted  to  dwell.  The  lights 
ordained  by  the  Creator  for  signs,  Genesis  iii.  15.  The  dress  of  thu 
Jewish  High  Priest,  the  1st  Psalm,  the  89th  Psalm,  Zechariah  ix.  9, 
1st  J(Rn,  4,  and  many  passages  drawn  from  Isaiah,  and  the  Epistles 
of  the  Apostle  Paul.  His  manner  of  passing  his  time,  and  the  devout 
propensities  of  his  pious  heart,  may  be  gathered  from  a  short  extract 
from  his  journal,  a  journal  replete  with  beauty  and  interest,  to  the 
christianized  mind,  and  containing  descriptions  and  remarks,  worthy 
the  writer  : — 

"  I  am  delighted  with  walking  through  the  fields ;  the  gardens  are  so 
very  beautiful,  the  fields  so  very '  green,  the  linnets  and  goldfinches  so 
busy  on  the  hedges,  preparing  their  habitations.  These  songsters  of 
the  groves,  which  are  vocal  on  every  spray,  are  to  me  like  old  and 
pleasing  acquaintance,  not  seen  nor  heard  of  for  a  great  number  of  years, 
while  the  fascinating  choristers,  in  whom  I  have  taken  so  much  delight, 
seem,  by  their  cheering  notes,  to  welcome  me  as  I  pass  along  their 
native  fields  and  hedges.  The  primroses,  and  a  variety  of  other  sweet 
flowers,  are  already  in  full  bloom  :  in  «hort,  every  thing  wears  a  rheor- 


218  LIFE    OP    REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

ful  appearance.  How  grateful  ought  I  to  be  to  the  Author  of  every 
good,  who,  in  this  dear  country,  follows  me  with  the  same  loving  kind- 
ness and  tender  mercy,  with  which  he  followed  me  in  the  dear  country 
I  have  left.  The  numerous  friends,  with  whom  I  occasionally  sojourn, 
are  as  anxious  to  detain  me  with  them,  and  lament  the  necessity  of  my 
departure,  precisely  as  did  my  American  friends  ;  their  hearts  swell 
with  transport,  while  I  simply  declare  the  gospel  of  the  grace  of  God, 
and  they  reiterate  their  expressions  of  admiration  of  the  gracious  words, 
which  God  enables  me  to  utter,  in  like  manner  as  did  the  good  Glouces- 
terian  Elder,  Mr.  Warner,  on  my  first  visit  to  that  place.  We  mingle 
our  supplications  and  addresses,  our  thanksgivings  and  our  praises,  and 
our  hearts  burn  within  us,  while  we  converse  of  the  goodness  of  our 
God,  and  the  gracious  purposes  of  redeeming  love.  Surely  it  would 
be  ill  judged,  if  not  cruel,  in  such  circumstances,  to  dash  the  cup  of 
felicity  from  the  lips  of  these  humble  dependents  upon  the  grace  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  because  perhaps  they  do  not  see  to  the  end  of  the 
divine  purposes.  I  never  will  preach  any  thing  but  the  gospel  of  God 
our  Saviour,  any  where ;  but  I  will  leave  those  dear  people  to  draw 
their  own  conclusions,  and,  in  the  interim,  I  will  feed  them  with  the 
sincere  milk  of  the  word,  that  they  may  grow  thereby.  The  inhabitants 
of  this  place  (Falmouth)  are  a  very  Iriendly,  religious  people.  May 
God  grant  them  peace,  and  give  them  abundant  consolation  in  believ- 
ing. The  people  every  where  hear  with  AMERICAN  ATTENTION. 
Clergymen,  wherever  I  sojourn,  are  generally  my  hosts.  Gospel,  una- 
dulterated gospel,  is  pleasant  to  the  believing  soul ;  I  content  myself 
with  showing  that  man  is  lost  by  sin  ;  that  the  law  is  the  ministrali|n  of 
death ;  that  -the  gospel  is  a  divine  declaration  of  life,  by  Jesus  Christ,  to 
every  creature.  Yes,  I  will  continue  to  preach  the  gospel  freely  to 
every  creature.  I  will  endeavour  to  point  out  its  glories,  and  the 
many  advantages  attendant  on  believing  the  divine  report.  This,  by 
the  grace  of  God,  shall  still  be  the  business  of  my  life.  Many  clergy- 
men attend  me  in  my  progress,  no  less  than  seven  have  been  among  my 
audience  at  one  time ;  and  on  my  descending  from  the  pulpit,  they 
usually  take  my  hand,  and  devoutly  thank  me  for  bearing  so  good  a 
testimony  for  Jesus  Christ;  for  speaking  so  well  of  the  Redeemer^ 
adding,  that  it  is  a  pity  I  should  do  any  thing  but  preach.  Numbers 
flock  around  me,  and,  in  fact,  were  I  an  angel  descended  from  above,  I 
could  not  be  followed  with  more  uniform  attention." 

London  is  two  hundred  and  twenty  miles  from  Falmouth.     The 
Preacher  did  not  reach  that  metropolis  until  the   16th  of  March,  and 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

his  time  was  most  delightfully  passed  in  the  service  of  God  the  Saviour. 
Upon  one  occasion,  his  entrance  into  one  spacious  place  of  worship 
was  hailed  by  the  musical  choir,  devoutly  chanting 

"  Blow  ye  the  trumpet,  blow 

The  gladly  solemn  sound, 

Let  ail  the  nations  know, 

To  earth's  remotest  bound, 
The  year  of  jubilee  is  come, 
Return,  ye  ransom'd  sinners,  home." 

Yet,  even  in  this  short  visit  to  his  native  island,  the  Promulgator 
went  through  evil  as  well  as  good  report.  We  subjoin  a  specimen  of 
each.  A  gentleman  of  Falmouth,  writing  to  his  friend  in  Tregony,  thus 
expresses  himself : — 

"  Mr.  Murray  will  shortly  be  in  your  town  ;  we  have  attended  upon 
him  here  with  inexpressible  delight ;  three  such  sermons,  as  he  has  de- 
livered, my  ears  never  before  heard  ;  such  a  preacher  never  before  ap- 
peared in  this  town.  I  am  convinced  his  ideas  are  all  his  own,  I  never 
heard  any  thing  like  them  ;  his  mind  seems  clearly  informed,  and  his 
heart  very  much  warmed  by  the  love  of  God."  But  the  following  ad- 
vertisement appeared  in  a  London  paper. 

"  Mr.  Murray  is  an  American,  the  most  popular  preacher  in  the 
United  States.  Tn  the  conclusion  of  one  of  his  sermons,  preached  on 
that  continent,  he  endeavoured  to  enforce,  with  all  the  powers  of  elo- 
quence, the  necessity  of  establishing  in  those  states  the  same  Olympic 
games,  wrhich  were  for  many  ages  established  among  the  Grecians." 
But  this  was  not  all ;  it  was  storied,  that  he  had  left  America  in  conse- 
quence of  a  criminal  prosecution. 

Arriving  at  London,  he  was  once  more  enriched  by  the  maternal 
benediction.  He  found  his  venerable  parent  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  fine 
green  old  age,  and  again  she  rejoiced  in  the  presence  of  her  son.  In 
London,  and  at  Hampstead,  in  the  meeting-house  once  occupied  by  Mr. 
Whitefield,  he  delivered  his  message  of  peace.  Patronized  in  the  city 
of  London,  by  an  opulent  family,  who  cherished  him  PS  a  son,  he  was 
strongly  solicited  once  more  to  take  up  his  abode  in  that  metropolis  ; 
but  the  providence  of  God  had  not  so  decreed,  and,  after  continuing 
there  a  short  time,  he  departed  thence,  and  journeyed  to  Portsmouth, 
for  the  purpose  of  being  in  readiness  to  commence  his  return  to  America, 
In  Portsmouth,  he  was  again  a  solitary  stranger  ;  but  he  had  not  been 
more  than  four  hours  in  that  celebrated  and  important  emporium,  ere 
he  was  engaged,  by  a  respectable  clergyman,  to  preach  a  lecture,  which 
had  been  previously  announced.  In  Portsmouth  he  tarried  two  weeks. 


220  -LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

preaching  frequently.  On  his  first  lecture,  he  was  solicited  by  a  doctor 
Miller  to  accompany  him  to  his  habitation,  where  he  abode  until  he 
departed  from  that  town.  The  circle  of  his  acquaintance  soon  became 
large,  among  whom  he  numbered  very  respectable  friends.  When  the 
clergymen,  with  whom  Mr.  Murray  associated,  during  his  last  residence 
in  England,  became  ascertained  of  his  full  and  comprehensive  views  of 
the  magnitude  and  extent  of  the  redeeming  plan,  although  very  few 
adopted  his  ideas,  yet  they  still  continued  warmly  attached  to  the 
preacher  ;  and  the  letters  they  addressed  to  him,  after  his  return  to 
America,  which  are  still  in  being,  would  fill  a  volume.  A  few  of  the 
Preacher's  responses  are  contained  in  the  volumes  of  Letters  and 
Sketches  of  Sermons. 

Mr.  Murray  proceeded  to  Cowes,  upon  the  Isle  of  Wight,  and  from 
thence  embarking  for  America,  commenced  his  voyage  with  a  fair  wind, 
which  soon  changing,  they  were  under  the  necessity  of  dropping  anchor 
in  Portland  harbour,  where  they  were  long  wind  bound.  His  passage 
was  uncommonly  protracted  ;  but,  fortunately,  the  passengers  united 
to  give  it  every  charm,  of  which  society  is  susceptible  ;  and,  when  we 
add,  that  our  late  respectable  President,  the  Honourable  John  Adams 
and  Lady,  were  of  the  number,  the  pleasures  of  the  voyage  will  be 
nothing  doubted.  Books,  music,  and  conversation,  varied  the  tedium 
of  the  passing  weeks  ;  nor  was  the  Preacher  debarred  the  exercise  of  his 
sacred  avocation  ;  Mr.Adams  requested  he  would  officiate  as  their  teach- 
er, every  Sunday,  and  accordingly  the  ship's  company,  and  the  passen- 
gers, were,  upon  this  holy  day,  collected  round  him.  His  first  subject 
was  the  third  commandment.  They  united  in  their  addresses  to  the 
throne  of  grace,  and  in  hymning  the  praises  of  their  God. 

Again  reaching  the  shores  of  this  New  World,  the  voice  of  exoneration 
and  of  FREEDOM  bade  him  welcome;  and  the  glad  acclamations  of  joy 
resounded  among  his  congratulating,  and  most  affectionate  friends.  A 
summons  from  the  Governour,  to  attend  a  select  party  at  his  house,  met 
him  on  the  day  of  his  arrival,  and  every  liberal  mind  partook  the  rational 
hilarity  of  the  moment. 

The  Gloucesterians,  determining  no  more  to  hazard  invidious  prose- 
cution, and  its  train  of  evils,  appointed  a  day,  the  Christmas  of  1788, 
on  which  to  renew,  the  ordination  of  their  Pastor  ;  and,  after  assem- 
bling, and  effectuating  their  purpose,  that  they  might  bestow  upon  the 
solemn  transaction  all  possible  publicity,  they  procured  its  insertion  in 
the  Centinel  of  January  3d,  1789,  from  which  paper  we  transcribe  it 
verbatim  : — 


LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  221 

"  Last  Thursday  week,  Mr.  John  Murray  was  ordained  to  the  pas- 
toral charge  oi'  the  Independent  Church  of  Christ  in  Gloucester.  After 
Mr.  Murray  had  prayed,  and  one  of  the  congregation  had  announced 
the  intention  of  the  meeting,  and  presented  him,  formally,  with  a  call. 
Mr.  Murray  replied  : 

"  Persuaded  of  the  truth  of  the  declaration,  made  by  the  compilers 
of  the  shorter  catechism,  that  God's  works  of  providence  are  his  most 
holy,  wise,  and  powerful,  preserving  and  governing  all  his  creatures,  and 
all  their  actions ;  and  having  a  full  conviction  that  the  affairs  of  the 
Church  are,  in  an  especial  manner,  under  his  immediate  direction  ;  and 
that  you,  my  Christian  friends  and  brethren,  are  now,  as  formerly,  under 
the  directing  influence  of  that  divine  spirit,  which,  taking  of  the  things 
of  Jesus,  and  showing  them  unto  me,  constrained  me  to  become  a 
Preacher  of  the  everlasting  Gospel,  and  directed  you  to  set  me  apart, 
and  ordain  me,  to  be  your  Minister  ;  I  now  again,  with  humble  grati- 
tude to  my  divine  Master,  and  grateful  affection  for  you,  my  long  tried, 
and  faithful  Christian  friends  and  brethren,  most  cordially  accept  of  this 
call." 

One  of  the  Committee  then  read  the  vote  of  the  Church  :  "  Resolv- 
ed,  that  we,  the  proprietors  of  the  Independent  Meeting-House  in 
Gloucester,  the  members  of  the  church  and  congregation  usually  attend- 
ing there  for  the  purpose  of  divine  worship,  do,  by  virtue  of  that  power 
invested  in  us  by  the  great  High  Priest  of  our  profession,  the  Bishop  of 
our  souls,  and  the  Great  and  only  Head  of  the  Church  ;  and  according 
to  the  institutions  of  the  first  churches  in  New-England,  and  in  perfect 
conformity  to  the  third  article  of  the  declaration  of  rights,  in  this  public 
manner,  solemnly  elect  and  ordain,  constitute  and  appoint  Mr.  John 
Murray,  of  said  Gloucester,  dark,  to  be  our  settled  Minister,  Pastor, 
and  teaching  Elder  ;  to  preach  the  word  of  God,  and  to  inculcate  les- 
sons and  instructions  of  piety,  religion,  and  morality,  on  the  congrega- 
tion ;  and  to  do,  perform,  and  discharge  all  the  duties  and  offices,  which 
of  right  belong  to  any  other  minister  of  the  Gospel,  or  public  teacher 
of  Piety,  Religion,  and  Morality  ;  and  it  is  hereby  intended,  and  under- 
stood, that  the  authority  and  rights  hereby  given  to  the  said  Mr.  John 
Murray,  to  be  our  settled,  ordained  minister,  and  public  teacher,  are  to 
remain  in  full  force,  so  long  as  he  shall  continue  to  preach  the  word  of 
God,  and  dispense  instructions  of  piety,  religion  and  morality,  confor- 
mably to  our  opinions,  and  no  longer." 

"  The  Committee   then  solemnly  presented  him  the  Bible,  saying, 
on  its  presentation  :   "  Dear  sir,  We  present  you  these  sacred  scriptures 
EE 


LIFE  OK  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

as  a  solemn  seal  of  your  ordination  to  the  ministry  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, and  the  sole  directory  of  your  faith  and  practice."  His  accept- 
ance was  affecting  ;  as  what  comes  from  the  heart  reaches  the  heart. 

'*  With  my  full  soul  I  thank  our  merciful  God,  for  this  inestimable 
gift.  With  grateful  transport  I  press  it  to  my  bosom  ;  I  receive  it  as 
the  copy  of  my  FATHER'S  WILL,  as  the  deed  of  an  incorruptible  inher- 
itance ;  as  the  unerring  guide  to  my  feet,  and  lanthorn  to  my  paths. 
Dear,  precious  treasure,  thou  hast  been  my  constant  support  in  every 
trying  hour,  and  a  never  failing  source  of  true  consolation.  I  thank 
you,  most  sincerely  do  T  thank  you,  for  this  confirming  seal,  this  sure 
directory  ;  and  I  pray  that  the  spirit,  which  dictated  these  sacred  pages, 
may  enable  me  to  make  the  best  use  thereof."  A  sermon  by  Mr.  Mur- 
ray, from  Luke  v.  2,  succeeded,  "  The  harvest  is  great,  bui  the  labour- 
ers are  few"  &c.  &c. 

"  The  solemnity,  attention,  and  Christian  demeanour,  that  attended 
the  whole  transaction  of  the  ordination,  and  every  other  occurrence  of 
the  day,  gave  universal  satisfaction  to  a  numerous  audience." 

Days  of  tranquillity  now  succeeded  ;  weeks,  months,  nay  years  roll- 
ed on,  and  harmony,  unbroken  harmony,  presided.  Religion  shed  her 
balmy  influence,  her  mind-irradiating,  passion-subduing  consolations  ; 
and  we  were  ready  to  say,  stability  dwelleth  even  in  our  times.  But 
alas  !  we  too  soon  experienced  that  "  bliss,  sublunary  bliss"  was  not 
the  durable  possession  of  mortality. 

It  was  in  this  interval,  of  most  pleasant  memory,  that  Mr.  Murray, 
in  the  summer  of  the  year  1790,  then  on  a  visit  to  his  Pennsylvania, 
Jersey,  and  New -York  connexions,  was,  by  the  Universalists  convened 
in  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  associated  with  Mr.  William  Eugene  Imley, 
to  present  an  address  to  the  immortal  Washington,  then  President  of 
the  United  States.  We  proceed  to  transcribe  the  address. 

To  THE  PRESIDENT  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES. 

The  Address  of  the  Convention  of  the  Universal  Churchy  assembled  in 

Philadelphia. 

SIR, 

Permit  us,  in  the  name  of  the  Society  which  we  represent,  to  concur 
in  the  numerous  congratulations  which  have  been  offered  to  you,  since 
your  accession  to  the  government  of  the  United  States. 

"  For  an  account  of  our  principles,  we  beg  leave  to  refer  you  to  the 
pamphlet,  which  we  have  now  the  honour  of  putting  into  your  hands. 
In  this  publication  it  will  appear,  that  the  peculiar  doctrine,  which  we 
hold,  is  not  less  friendly  to  the  order  and  happiness  of  society,  than  it  is 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

essential  to  the  perfection  of  the  Deity.  It  is  a  singular  circumstance 
in  the  history  of  this  doctrine,  that  it  has  been  preached  and  defended  in 
every  age  since  the  first  promulgation  of  the  Gospel  ;  but  we  represent 
the  first  society,  professing  this  doctrine,  that  have  formed  themselves 
into  an  independent  church.  Posterity  will  hardly  fail  to  connect  this 
memorable  event,  with  the  auspicious  years  of  PEACE,  LIBERTY,  and  free 
inquiry  in  the  United  States,  which  distinguished  the  administration  of 
GENERAL  WASHINGTON. 

"We  join,  thus  publicly,  with  our  affecti  on  ate  fellow  citizens,  in 
thanks  to  Almighty  God,  for  the  last  of  his  numerous  signal  acts  of 
goodness  to  our  country,  in  preserving  your  valuable  life,  in  a  late  dan- 
gerous indisposition,  and  we  assure  you,  Sir,  that  duty  will  not  prompt 
us,  more  than  affection,  to  pray  that  you  may  long  continue  the  support 
and  ornament  of  our  country,  and  that  you  may  hereafter  fill  a  higher 
station,  and  enjoy  the  greater  reward  of  being  a  king,  and  priest  to  our 
God. 

"  Signed  in  behalf,  and  by  order  of  the  convention. 

"  JOHN  MURRAY. 

"  WILLIAM  ETJGENB  IMLEY.'' 

PRESIDENT'S  REPLY. 

;*  To  the  Convention  of  the  Universal  Church)  lately  assembled  in  Phi- 
ladelphia. 

"  GENTLEMEN, 

"  I  thank  you,  cordially,  for  the  congratulations,  which  you  offer  on 
my  appointment  to  the  office  I  have  the  honour  to  hold  in  the  govern- 
ment of  the  United  States. 

"  It  gives  me  the  most  sensible  pleasure  to  find,  that,  in  our  nation, 
however  different  are  the  sentiments  of  citizens  on  religious  doctrines, 
they  generally  concur  in  one  thing  :  for  their  political  professions,  and 
practices,  are  almost  universally  friendly  to  the  order  and  happiness  of 
our  civil  institutions.  I  am  also  happy  in  finding  this  disposition  par- 
ticidarly  evinced  by  your  society.  It  is  moreover  my  earnest  desire, 
that  the  members  of  every  association,  or  community,  throughout  the 
United  States,  may  make  such  use  of  the  auspicious  years  of  peace, 
liberty,  and  free  inquiry  with  which  they  are  now  favoured,  as  they 
shall  hereafter  find  occasion  to  rejoice  for  having  done. 

"  With  great  satisfaction,  I  embrace  this  opportunity,  to  express  my 
acknowledgments  for  the  interest,  my  affectionate  fellow  citizens  have 
taken  in  my  recovery,  from  a  late  dangerous  indisposition.  And  I  as- 


224  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

sure  you,  Gentlemen,  that  in  mentioning  my  obligations,  for  the  effu- 
sions of  your  benevolent  wishes  on  my  behalf,  I  feel  animated  with  new 
zeal,  that  my  conduct  may  ever  be  worthy  of  your  good  opinion,  as 
well  as  such  as  shall,  in  every  respect,  best  comport  with  the  character 
of  an  intelligent  and  accountable  being." 


And  now,  a  large  number  of  Mr.  Murray's  first  friends  in  Gloucester 
were  numbered  with  the  dead.  He  had  himself  again  become  the 
head  of  a  family.  The  times  were  oppressive,  and  he  considered  it  his 
duty  to  provide  for  those  of  whom  he  had  taken  charge.  The  Bosto- 
nians  were  solicitous  to  hail  the  Preacher,  as  their  settled  Pastor  ;  and 
it  was  certain  his  usefulness  would,  in  the  Metropolis,  be  more  exten- 
sive. A  partial  separation  from  the  Gloucesterians  was,  by  mutual  con- 
sent, effectuated.  It  was  however  stipulated,  that  Mr.  Murray  should 
occasionally  visit  them,  and  that  they  should  be  allowed  to  command 
his  presence,  upon  every  distressing,  or  important  exigence  ;  and  the 
distance  being  no  more  than  an  ea.y  ride  of  a  few  hours,  the  adjustment 
was  accomplished,  without  much  difficulty.  Yet  did  the  Preacher 
continue  dissatisfied,  until  the  establishment  of  his  successor,  in  the 
midst  of  his  long  loved,  and  early  friends. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Thomas  Jones,  a  native  of  Wales,  whom  he  had  in- 
duced, by  his  representations,  to  unite  with  him  in  his  American  mis- 
sion, is  a  gentleman  of  great  respectability,  of  the  purest  morals,  and 
high  in  the  ranks  of  integrity.  Mr.  Jones  was  educated  at  the  col  ege, 
established  by  the  Countess  of  Huntington  ;  in  which  connexion  he  con- 
tinued, until  his  attachment  to  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel,  in  their  most 
unlimited  import,  became  the  signal  for  his  exclusion.  The  installation 
of  Mr.  Jones,  in  Gloucester,  gladdened  the  heart  of  the  philanthropic 
preacher,  and  his  satisfaction  was  complete.  The  Gloucesterians  love 
and  respect  their  pastor,  and  their  unanimity  is  unbroken.  They  have 
erected  a  new  and  elegant  house  of  worship.  In  Salem  also,  and 
in  Portsmouth  and  Charlestown,  in  New-York,  and  in  Philadelphia, 
commodious  buildings  are  reared  to  the  honour  of  GOD  OUR  SAVIOUR. 

On  Wednesday.  23d  of  October,  1793,  the  installation  of  Mr.  Mur- 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

tay,  took  place  in  the  Universal   Meeting-house  in  Boston  :  the  Pre- 
siding Deacon,  addressed  the  church  and  congregation. 

"  Brethren,  it  having  pleased  the  Father  of  mercies  to  unite  in  bonds 
of  Christian  love  and  affection  the  hearts  of  the  people,  usually  wor- 
shipping in  this  place,  in  the  choice  of  Mr.  John  Murray  for  their  Pas- 
tor and  Teacher.  We  have  accordingly  assembled  together,  at  this 
time  and  place,  for  the  solemn  purpose  of  ratifying  here  below,  what 
we  humbly  trust  is  already  recorded  in  heaven.  It  is  the  duty  of  all 
men,  at  all  times,  and  in  all  places,  humbly  to  implore  the  direction  of 
the  great  Head  of  the  Church,  in  all  their  lawful  undertakings."  (Then 
followed  an  appropriate  prayer  by  Mr.  Murray.)  A  fter  which,  the  Deacon 
demanded  of  the  church  and  congregation,  as  they  had  heretofore  ex- 
pressed their  desire,  that  Mr.  Murray  should  become  their  Pastor,  and 
Teacher,  if,  at  this  time,  they  continued  of  that  mind,  they  would  pub- 
licly confirm  it,  by  vote — which  wm  unanimous.  He  then  requested 
Mr.  Murray's  answer,  which  being  given  in  the  affirmative,  he  conclud- 
ed his  address  :  u  I,  therefore,  in  the  name  and  behalf  of  this  church 
and  congregation — supported  by  the  constitution  of  this  Commonwealth, 
declare  you,  John  Murray,  to  be  the  Pastor  and  Teacher  of  this  First 
Universal  Church  in  Boston  ;  and  in  their  name  I  present  unto  you 
the  sacred  Volume,  as  the  rule  of  your  faith  and  practice,  and  as  con- 
taining a  perfect  and  complete  revelation  of  the  perfections  and  will  of 
God  ;  and  I  furthermore  declare  unto  you,  that  so  long  as  you  contin- 
ue to  preach  the  gospel,  as  delineated  in  these  sacred  pages,  which  is 
glad  tidings  of  great  joy  to  every  creature,  as  the  purchase  of  the  blood 
ot  limnanuel,  so  long  you  shall  be  considered  as  our  Pastor,  and  no 
longer.  And  now,  dearly  beloved  Sir,  "  I  charge  thee,  therefore,  be- 
fore God  and  the  Loid  Jesus  Christ,  who  shall  judge  the  quick,  and  the 
dead,  at  His  Appearing,  and  His  Kingdom  ;  to  Preach  the  Worti, 
be  Instant  in  Season,  out  of  Season  ;  Reprove,  Rebuke,  Exhort,  with 
all  long  Suffering,  and  Doctrine.  In  all  things  showing  thyself  a  Pat- 
tern of  Good  Works  :  In  Doctrine  showing  Uncormptness,  Gravity, 
Sincerity,  Svund  Speech  that  cannot  be  condemned  ;  that  he  that  is  of 
the  contrary  part,  may  be  Ashamed,  having  no  Evil  thing  to  say  of  yon. 
A  Workman  that  needeth  not  to  be  Ashamed,  Rightly  Dividing  the 
Word  of  TrutJi.  And  now,  sir,  commending  you  with  the  Church, 
and  Congregation,  over  which  the  Holy  Ghost  hath  made  you  Overseer, 
to  the  care  and  protection  of  Him  "  that  loved  us  and  washed  us  from 
our  sins  in  His  own  blood,"  earnestly  beseeching  Him,  to  build  us  all 
.up,  in  the  unity  of  the  One  Spirit  and  iy  the  bond  of  peace.  Now  unto 


226  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

Him  who  is  abundantly  able  to  perform  all  these  things  for  us,  arid  to 
present  us  ALL  faultless  before  the  throne  of  an  Infinite  Majesty,  be  all 
honour,  glory,  dominion,  and  power,  throughout  the  ages  of  time,  and 
a  wasteless  eternity,  Amen." 

Mr.  Murray's  reply  was  animated  and  replete  with  aiFection  ;  after 
which,  a  hymn  was  performed  by  the  choir  of  singers,  accompanied  by 
the  organ.  Next,  an  excellent  discourse  by  Mr.  Murray,  from  1.  Cor. 
ix.  14.  "  For  though  I  preach  the  Gospel,  I  have  nothing  to  glory  of: 
for  necessity  is  laid  upon  me  ;  yea,  woe  is  unto  me  if  I  preach  not  the 
Gospe/."  A  collection  for  the  distressed  inhabitants  of  Philadelphia 
succeeded  the  sermon,  and  an  anthem  suited  to  the  solemnities  of  the 
occasion  was  most  admirably  chanted.  The  whole  was  conducted  with 
strict  decorum,  to  the  satisfaction  of  a  very  numerous,  respectable,  and 
attentive  audience. 

Perhaps  no  congregation  were  ever  more  unanimous,  and  more  per- 
fectly satisfied  with  the  Pastor  of  their  election,  than  were  the  people 
worshipping  in  the  Church  in  Bennet-Street ;  and  perhaps  no  Minister 
was  ever  more  unfeignedly  attached  to  the  people  of  his  charge,  than 
was  the  long-wandering  Preacher.  Both  the  minister,  and  congrega- 
tion might  truly  be  said  to  worship  the  Most  High  in  the  beauty  of  ho- 
liness. The  ordinance  of  the  Lord's  supper  was  administered  agreea- 
bly to  their  ideas  of  its  genuine  import.  Parents  brought  their  children 
into  the  great  congregation,  standing  in  the  broad  aisle,  in  the  presence 
of  the  worshippers  of  God  ;  the  father  received  the  babe  from  the 
hands  of  the  mother,  and  presented  it  to  the  servant  of  God  ;  who, 
deriving  his  authority  for  this  practice  from  the  example  of  his  Redeem- 
er, who  says,  "  suffer  little  children  to  come  unto  me,"  &c.  &c.  pro- 
nounced aloud  the  name  of  the  child,  and  received  it  as  a  member  of 
the  mystical  body  of  Him,  who  is  the  second  Adam,  the  Redeemer  of 
Men.  How  often  has  his  paternal  heart  throbbed  with  rapture,  as  he 
has  most  devoutly  repeated,  "  We  dedicate  thee  to  Him,  to  whom  thou 
properly  belonged,  to  be  baptized  with  His  own  baptism,  in  the  name 
of  the  Father,  a?id  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost  ;  and  we  pro- 
nounce upon  thee  that  blessing,  which  He  commanded  his  Ministers, 
Moses,  Aaron,  and  his  Sons,  to  pronounce  upon  his  people,  saying, 
The  Lord  bless  thee,  and  keep  thee  ;  The  Lord  make  His  face  to  shine 
upon  thee,  and  be  gracious  unto  thee  ;  The  Lord  lift  up  His  counte- 
nance upon  thee,  and  give  thee  peace" 

The  preacher,  however,  never  surrendered  the  persuasion,  that  he 
was  sent  out  to  preach  the  gospel,  and  his  visits  to  his  far  distant  friends 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

were  frequently  repeated  ;  yet  these  visits  were  always  made  by  the  as- 
senting voice  of  the  society,  and  he  regarded  every  individual,  congre- 
gated under  his  directing  auspices,  as  in  an  essential  and  solemn  sense 
his  children.  A  gentleman,  attending  in  the  church  in  Bennet-street, 
addressing  Mr.  Murray  by  letter,  thus  observes  :  "  I  was  very 
much  pleased  at  your  meeting  ;  the  orderly, respectable,  and  serious 
demeanour  of  your  society  ;  their  silent,  and  fixed  attention  upon  you, 
penetrated  me  with  sentiments  of  attachment  and  satisfaction,  and  I 
forbore  not  to  invoke  the  providence  of  God,  that  no  froward,  or  ad- 
verse spirit,  should  interrupt  the  harmony  which  now  so  evidently  sub- 
sists between  you." 

Yes,  it  is  indeed  true,  that  Mr.  Murray  considered  the  interests  of  the 
people  of  his  charge  as  his  own.  Most  fondly  did  he  cherish,  and  per- 
severingly  did  he  seek,  by  every  possible  means,  to  advance  their  repu- 
tation. He  sympathized  with  the  afflicted,  and  largely  partook  their 
sorrows  ;  while,  so  often  as  the  course  of  events  brought  joy  to  their 
bosoms,  his  eye  beamed  gladness,  and  his  tongue  exulted  to  dwell 
upon  facts,  which  illumined  the  hours  of  his  protracted  pilgrimage. 
His  voice,  at  the  bed  of  death,  vas  the  herald  of  consolation.  Are  there 
not  uncounted  numbers,  still  passing  on,  in  this  vale  of  tears,  who,  while 
attending  upon  their  expiring  relatives,  have  witnessed  the  divine  effects 
emanating  from  the  luminous  understanding  of  the  preacher,  and  light- 
ing up  a  blissful  smile  of  anticipated  felicity,  amid  the  agonies  of  dis- 
solving nature.  To  the  aged  he  delighted  to  administer  consolation  ; 
his  presence  gave  a  face  of  cheerfulness  to  those  social  hours,  which  the 
numerous  classes,  with  whom  he  mingled,  were  wont  to  appropriate 
to  enjoyment.  Children  lisped  with  infantile  transport  the  name 
of  the  philanthropic  preacher,  and  they  were  even  eloquent  in 
expressions  of  unfeigned  attachment.  The  pleasures  of  young  people, 
if  under  the  dominion  of  innocence,  were  uniformly  sanctioned  by  their 
Preacher  ;  and  his  appearance  in  well  regulated  circles  of  hilarity,  so 
far  from  clouding,  was  always  considered  as  the  harbinger  of  high- 
wrought  entertainment.  If  we  except  a  single  instance,  we  do  not  know, 
that,  through  a  series  of  revolving  years,  the  harmony  subsisting  between 
the  minister  and  his  congregation,  suffered  either  interruption  or  diminu- 
tion. This  instance  originated  in  political  pertinacity.  Party  spirit 
occasionally  ran  very  high ;  and  federal  and  democratic  leaders  were 
among  the  adherents  of  Mr.  Murray.  A  July  Oration  was  to  be  de- 
livered ;  much  invidious  disquisition  was  afloat ;  but  it  is  fruitless  to 
delineate  ;  suffice  it  to  suy,  that  this  oration,  and  its  consequences,  were 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

pregnant  with  anguish  to  an  oft-stricken  heart ;  but,  blessed  be  God,  the 
threatening  aspect  of  affairs,  which  seemed  to  gather  darkness,  was  soon 
dispersed,  and  the  sun  of  righteousness  seemed  to  break  forth,  with  re- 
newed splendor.  Nor  is  it  wonderful,  that  transient  animosities  exist- 
ed ;  it  is  rather  astonishing  they  were  not  more  frequent.  It  was  truly 
affecting,  it  was  beautiful,  and  eminently  consolatory,  to  behold  per- 
sons of  the  warmest  feelings,  and  strongest  prejudices,  depositing 
every  dissenting,  every  foreign  sentiment,  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  meet- 
ing, and  mingling  souls,  and  emphatically,  although  tacitly,  saying  to 
every  minor  consideration,  "  Tarry  ye  here,  while  we  go  up  to  worship." 
Too  soon  have  the  years  of  felicity  fled  away.  They  rise  to  view 
like  the  vision  of  some  blissful  era,  which  we  have  imagined,  not 
realized.  Suddenly  we  were  aroused  from  our  dream  ot  security  ;  the 
torpid  hand  of  palsy  blighted  our  dearest  hopes ;  the  Preacher,  the 
Head,  the  Husband,  the  Father,  was  in  a  moment  precipitated  from  a 
state  of  high  health,  and  prostrated  beneath  the  tremendous  stroke  of 
the  fell  destroyer.  *- 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Record  continued  from  October,  1809,  to  September,  1815,  including 
the  closing  scene. 

Portentously  the  dense,  dark  cloud  arose  ; 

Long  was  the  night,  surcharg'd  with  clust'ring  woes; 

But,  blest  Religion,  rob'd  in  spotless  white, 

With  torch  of  faith,  pointing;  to  realms  of  light, 

March'd  splendid  on  ;  wide  o'er  the  brightening  way, 

Leading  the  saint  to  never-ending  day. 

WT  was  upon  the  nineteenth  day  of  October,  one  thousand  eight  hun- 
dred and  nfne,  that  the  fatal  blow  was  given  to  a  life  so  valuable, 
so  greatly  endeared,  so  truly  precious;  but,  although  the  corporeal 
powers  of  the  long  active  preacher,  became  so  far  useless,  as  to  render 
him  as  helpless  as  a  new-born  babe ;  although  he  was  indeed  a  com- 
plete cripple,  yet  the  saint  still  lingered  ;  was  still  detained  by  the  all- 
wise  decree  of  the  Most  High,  a  prisoner  in  his  clay-built  tenement,  nor 
did  his  complete  beatification  take  place  until  the  Sabbath  morning  of 
September  3d,  lacking  only  a  few  days  of  six  complete  years.  Yet 
was  his  patience,  so  far  as  we  have  known,  unexampled.  No  murmur 
against  the  inflictions  of  heaven  escaped  his  lips;  praises  of  his  paternal 


LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  229 

Creator  were  still  found  upon  his  tongue,  and  the  goodness  of  his  God 
continued  his  enduring  theme.  Unwavering  in  his  testimony,  he  re- 
peatedly, and  most  devoutly,  said:  "No  man  on  earth  is  under  so 
many  obligations  to  Almighty  God  as  myself ;  yes,  I  will  adore  the 
great  Source  of  Being  so  long  as  I  shall  exist,  and  every  faculty  of  my 
soul  shall  bless  my  redeeming  Creator."  Yet,  it  is  true,  that  when  the 
once  cheerful  sabbath  bells  vibrated  upon  his  ear,  he  would  frequently 
lift  towards  heaven  a  humid  eye,  and  mournfully  articulate:  "  Alas !  alas ! 
it  is  not  with  me  as  heretofore,  when  I  could  hear  the  tribes  devoutly  say, 
"  Up,  Israel,  to  the  temple  haste,  and  keep  this  festal  day :"  Soon, 
however,  his  mind  was  hushed  to  peace,  by  calm,  and  firm  confidence 
in  his  God,  and  he  would  add — "  Well,  well,  when  I  awake  in  thy 
likeness,  I  shall  be  satisfied.  We  are  asleep  in  the  present  state  ;  we 
are  asleep  in  the  likeness  of  the  earthy  man  ;  all  our  uneasy  sensations 
are  unpleasant  dreams.  Pleasures,  derived  from  mere  terrestrial  enjoy- 
ments, detached  from  intellect,  are  also  dreams,  and,  like  the  baseless 
fabric  of  a  vision,  shall  not  leave  a  wreck  behind.  But  if  my  life  have 
been  a  continued  sleep,  and  the  greater  part  of  my  pains,  and  pleasures, 
dreams ;  yet,  while  this  deep  sleep  has  been  upon  me,  the  Almighty  hath 
instructed  me  ;  yes,  blessed  be  His  name,  the  roof  of  His  mouth  is  as 
the  best  wine,  which  goeth  down  sweetly,  causing  the  lips  of  those  who 
are  asleep  to  speak.  O  !  for  more  of  this  best  wine,  that  my  lips  may 
show  forth  his  praise,  that  I  may  drink  and  forget  all  sorrow" 

Thus  was  the  tenor  of  his  mind  generally  acquiescent,  and  his  impa- 
tience to  be  gone  was  frequently  subdued,  by  an  operative  conviction 
of  the  sovereign  wisdom,  as  well  as  paternal  love  of  Deity.  His  bible 
was  his  constant  companion.  Seated  by  his  affectionate  assistant,  in 
his  easy  chair,  and  the  book  of  God  opened  before  him,  the  man  of  pa- 
tience, during  six  succeeding  years,  passed  the  long  summer  mornings 
from  the  sun's  early  beams,  in  examining  and  re-examining  the  WILL  OF 
HIS  AUGUST  FATHER.  He  had,  through  a  long  life,  been  conversant 
with  a  variety  of  English  authors.  Poets,  dramatic  writers,  essayists, 
and  historians,  were  familiar  to  him  ;  he  took  great  delight  in  perusing 
them  ;  but,  travelling  through  those  multiplied  pages,  might  be  termed 
his  excursions,  while  the  sacred  volume  was  his  INTELLECTUAL  HOME. 
Many  hours  in  every  day  were  devoted  to  the  attentive  perusal  of  the 
scriptures,  and  yet  his  sentiments  were  unvaried  ;  not  a  single  feature  of 
the  system,  he  had  so  long  advocated,  was  changed. 

Mr.  Murray  was  fond  of  calling  himself  the  Lord's  prisoner  ;  and  he 
would  add,  I  am,  by  consequence,  a  prisoner  of  hope.  During  hi* 


FF 


230  WPE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

confinement  many  respectable  gentlemen,  clergymen  in  Boston,  visited 
him.  One  or  two  repeated  their  visits,  and  they  apparently  regarded 
the  now  white-haired  servant  of  God,  with  kindness  and  respect.  One 
clergyman  questioned  him  respecting  his  then  present  views,  wishing 
to  be  ascertained  if  his  faith  were  still  in  exercise,  if  he  were  willing  to 
depart.  "  O  yes,  yes,  yes,"  exclaimed  the  long-illumined  Christian, 
"  the  glorious  manifestations  of  divine  love  still  brighten  upon  me. 
Right  precious  to  my  soul  are  the  promises,  the  OATH  OF  JEHOVAH  ; 
and,  sir,  so  far  from  shrinking  from  my  approaching  change,  my  only 
struggle  is  for  patience  to  abide,  until  the  time  appointed  for  my  eman- 
cipation. I  would  cultivate  a  humble,  child-like  resignation  ;  but  hope 
deferred,  doth  indeed  too  often  make  the  heart  sick."  Another  gentle- 
man congratulated  him  on  his  apparent  convalescence — "  Oh !  sir,"  he 
returned,  "  the  voice  of  gladness  suits  not  my  present  feelings  ;  it  is,  as 
if,  when  I  believed  I  was  voyaging  to  my  native  shores,  where  health, 
happiness,  and  peace  awaited  me,  borne  onwards  by  gales  the  most 
propitious,  and  supposing  myself  almost  in  the  moment  of  obtaining  the 
long  desired  haven,  when  suddenly  driven  back  by  some  adverse  cir- 
cumstance, instead  of  being  soothed  by  condolence,  I  am  pierced  to  the 
soul  by  the  discordant  sounds  of  felicitation."  Yet,  we  repeat,  the 
revered  teacher  was  in  general  astonishingly  patient,  resigned,  and  even 
cheerful.  He  was  frequently  heard  to  say,that  he  had  experienced,  in  the 
course  of  his  confinement,  more  of  the  abundant  goodness  of  his  God, 
than  through  the  whole  of  his  preceding  life;  and  those,  most  conversant 
with  him,  could  not  forbear  observing,  that  the  protracted  period  which 
would  in  prospect  have  risen  to  the  eye  with  a  most  melancholy,  if  not 
terrific  aspect,  taken  as  a  whole,  exhibited  the  saint  more  equal,  calm, 
and  dignified,  than  any  other  six  years  of  his  existence.  A  respectable 
gentleman,  not  of  his  persuasion,  but  candid  and  benign,  remarked,  that 
his  character  was  elevated  to  no  common  height ;  that  his  uncomplain- 
ing endurance  of  suffering,  and  the  unwavering  steadfastness  of  his  faith, 
had  stamped  his  testimony  with  the  seal  of  integrity,  and  gave  thai 
confirmation  to  his  confidence  in  his  own  views  of  sacred  writ,  which 
.could  not  fail  of  rejoicing  the  hearts  of  his  adherents. 

The  chamber  of  adversity  was  occasionally  illumined  by  the  presence 
'of a  few  fast  friends.;  and  ONE  sympathizing,  kind-hearted,  affectionate 
brother  was  so  uniform  in  his  appearance,  with  the  close  of  every  week, 
that  we  might  almost  have  designated  the  day,  and  the  hour  of  the 
evening,  by  his  approaches.  Nor  was  the  demise  of  his  jteacher  the 
period  of  his  kindness  :  his  countenance,  his  aid,  his  commiseration. 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  231 

bis  society,  are  still  loaned  to  the  solitary,  the  bereaved  family.  Deal- 
faithful  man  !  May  the  rich  blessings  of  Almighty  God  rest  upon  thee 
and  thine,  until  thou  hast  finished  thy  mortal  career,  and  niayest  thou, 
in  the  regions  of  blessedness,  renew,  with  thy  beloved  teacher,  that 
friendship  which,  while  tenanted  in  clay,  thou  hast  so  well  known  to 
appreciate. 

To  three  other  gentlemen,  devoted  adherents  to  the  lamented  de- 
ceased, warm  acknowledgments  are,  also,  most  righteously  due.  Their 
kind,  and  still  continued  attentions,  are  gratifying  proof  of  their  attach- 
ment to  him,  who  was  so  dear  to  them,  and  gratitude  hath,  with  mourn- 
ful alacrity,  reared  her  altars  in  the  bosoms  of  the  widow,  and  the 
fatherless. 

Some  strange  occurrences  were  noted,  which  filled  the  heart  of  the 
venerable  man  of  God  with  sorrow,  unutterable  sorrow.  Every  thing 
seemed  to  point  his  passage  homeward  to  the  sky,  and  upon  Lord's  day 
morning,  August  twenty-seventh,  one  thousand  eight  hundred  and  fif- 
teen, at  four  o'clock,  an  especial  summons  was  despatched  by  the 
Most  High,  to  recal  his  long-tried  servant;  but  alas!  we  did  not  re- 
cognize the  messenger;  we  rather  believed,  that  the  circumstances, 
which  marked  the  acknowledged  change,  would  look  with  a  friendly 
aspect  upon  the  health  of  the  beloved  man,  during  the  succeeding  au- 
tumn and  winter;  but  the  honoured  sufferer  himself,  apparently  better 
informed,  anticipatingly  observed — "  Who  knows,  perhaps  the  liberat- 
ing hour  is  at  hand ;"  and  his  feelings  were  always  elated  or  depressed, 
inexact  proportion  as  the  moment  of  his  departure  seemed  to  advance,  or 
recede.  The  progress  of  the  new  disease  was  astonishingly  rapid.  A 
physician  was  summoned,  who  permitted  the  indulgence  of  hope.  On 
Tuesday,  29th,  his  complaints  evidently  abated,  insomuch,  that  while 
the  features  of  his  strongly  marked  face  expressed  the  deepest  mortifica- 
tion, he  tremulously  exclaimed,  "  Am  I  then  once  more  thrown  back, 
the  melancholy  subject  of  alternate  hope  and  fear '?"  On  Wednesday, 
every  symptom  increased,  he  obtained  little  rest,  and  hope  manifestly 
triumphed  in  his  bosom.  Another  physician  was  called  in,  whose 
doubtful  answers  to  proposed  questions  created  much  alarm.  He 
seemed  to  consider  nature  as  surrendering  her  offices.  In  the  course  of 
Thursday,  31st,  he  repeatedly,  and  earnestly  said,  "I  cannot  be  suffi- 
ciently thankful  to  God,  my  Saviour,  that  I  suffer  no  pain,  either  of 
body,  or  mind."  To  a  young,  and  tenderly  interested  friend,  he  smil- 
ingly observed,  "  I  am  hastening  through  the  valley  of  the  SHADOW  of 
death  ;  I  am  about  to  quit  this  distempered  state :  yet  a  little  moment, 


232  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

and  I  shall  be  received  into  the  city  of  the  living  God,  with  the  innu- 
merable company  of  the  apostles,  and  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect, 
and  I  shall  continue  for  ever,  in  the  presence  of  my  divine  Master." 

His  family  solicited  his  blessing.  "  You  are  blessed,"  he  replied, 
"  you  are  blessed  with  all  spiritual  blessings  in  Christ  Jesus  ;  and,  re- 
member," he  added,  fixing  his  dying  eyes  upon  them,  "  remember, 
that  however  tried  in  this  world,  there  is  another,  and  a  better  state  of 
things  ;  and  that,  although  pierced  in  this  vale  of  tears  by  the  arrows  of 
unkindness  and  ingratitude,  there  is  One  who  loveth  you,  with  an  ever- 
lasting love,  and  who  will  never  leave  you  nor  forsake  you." 

On  Friday  morning,  September  1st,  some  expressions  gave  positive 
proof  of  his  sanity  ;  but  as  the  day  advanced,  his  derangement  was  sup- 
posed unquestionable,  and  from  this  hour,  until  Saturday  evening,  a 
little  after  sunset,  he  continued,  with  few  intervals,  incoherently  repeat- 
ing the  most  consolatory  passages  in  the  book  of  God.  His  right  hand 
was  constantly  in  motion,  and  when  any  one  approached,  whatever 
might  be  the  question,  the  answer  was  ready.  "  To  HIM,"  said  the 
expiring  Christian,  "  SHALL  THE  GATHERING  ov  THE  PEOPLE  BE,  AND 

HlS  REST  SHALL  BE  GLORIOUS,     GLORIOUS,     GLORIOUS.       I    am    blessed 

with  all  spiritual  blessings,  in  Christ  Jesus.      Nor  I  alone,  CHRIST 

JESUS    HATH  TASTED  DEATH  FOR   EVERY  MAN,"  &C.  &C.       These  God- 

honouring,  man-restoring  truths,  were  audibly  articulated,  while  voice 
and  strength  continued  ;  and  when  speaking  only  in  a  whisper,  to  the 
listening  ear  applied  to  his  moving  lips,  it  was  ascertained  that  the  same 
consolatory  assurances  still  dwelt  upon  his  tongue.  Was  this  deliri- 
um ?  or,  if  it  were,  was  it  not  a  delirium  irradiated  by  the  powerful 
influence  of  redeeming  love  ?  Did  not  the  luminous  truths,  upon  which 
the  noble,  the  capacious  mind,  had  so  long  reposed,  beam  refulgent  over 
the  scattering  fragments,  then  dissolving,  which  had  for  a  term  of  more 
than  seventy  years,  embodied  the  immortal  tenant  ? 

Almost/  immediately  after  sunset,  on  Saturday  evening,  he  ceased  to 
speak  ;  his  right  hand  no  longer  waved,  and  he  continued  in  the  same 
position,  in  which  the  enduring  kindness  of  his  faithful  assistant  had 
placed  him,  until  six  o'clock,  Lord's-day  morning,  September  third, 
one  thousand  eight  hundeed  and  fifteen  ;  when,  without  a  sigh,  or  a 
struggle,  or  a  single  distortion  of  countenance,  he  expired.  His  long- 
imprisoned  spirit  escaped  to  the  God  who  gave  it. 

It  did  not  appear,  through  the  whole  of  Friday  and  Saturday,  that  he 
suffered  the  least  pain,  except  when  an  attempt  was  made  to  move  him. 
His  breath  grew  shorter  and  shorter,  like  the  sweet  sleep  of  a  tired  in- 
fant, until  it  could  no  more  be  distinguished.  He  departed  this  life  in 
the  seventy-fifth  year  of  his  age. 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

Sacred  be  the  scene  which  immediately  succeeded.  We  do  not  wish 
— we  attempt  not  to  lift  the  veil  ;  but  we  exult  in  the  conviction,  that 
we  shall,  ere  long,  follow  the  emancipated  spirit  to  the  abodes  of  bless- 
edness. 

The  interment  could  be  deferred  only  until  Monday  evening,  Sep- 
tember 4th.  The  ebbing  attachment  of  certain  individuals  now  rever- 
ted to  its  pristine  channel.  Funereal  honours  were  promptly  and  unan- 
imously decreed.  The  children  of  the  society,  distinguished  by  a  badge 
of  mourning,  preceded  the  body  ;  a  long,  solemn,  well-ordered  and 
respectable  procession  followed  the  train  of  mourners  ;  private  carriages 
were  added  to  those  appointed  by  the  society  ;  the  body  was  deposited 
upon  stands  in  the  aisle  of  the  Church  ;  the  pulpit  and  galleries  were 
hung  with  black  ;  religious  exercises  were  performed  ;  when  it  was 
entombed  with  the  ashes  of  those  to  whom  he  had  been  fondly  attached. 
Every  thing,  which  immediately  referred  to  the  sacred,  the  INDIVIDUAL 
remains  of  the  deceased,  was  liberally  provided  by  the  religious  adhe- 
rents of  the  promulgator,  and  the  arrears  which  would  have  been  due  to 
the  family,  had  the  vote  of  March,  1815,  been  similar  to  that  of 
March  1814,  were  paid,  to  a  single  farthing. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Conclusion. 

"  And  now  the  feverish  dream  of  Life  is  o'er." 

TTTAD  we  talents,  we  would  exhibit  a  portrait  of  the  deceased  :  But, 
besides  that  we  feel  ourselves  inadequate  to  a  task  so  arduous, 
we  are  not  perfectly  convinced  of  its  propriety.  Friendship  might  be 
too  warm,  and  admiration  too  lavish.  His  colleague  has  been  his  eulo- 
gist, and  no  friend  of  the  deceased  will  pronounce  the  panegyric  an 
exaggeration.  Perhaps  it  floes  not  contain  a  more  just,  or  a  more  happy 
paragraph  than  the  following  :  "  Without  a  second  to  aid  him,  you  saic 
him  pass  along  these  shores  from  Maryland  to  New- Hampshire,  like 
the  lonely  Pelican  of  the  wilderness,  publishing,  as  with  the  voics  of  an 
angel,  the  tidings  of  everlasting  life  to  the  whole  world,  in  the  name, 
and  through  the  mission  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.''1 

It  has  been  said  that  persuasion  dwelt  upon  the  lips  of  our  philanthro- 
pist. The  pages  of  recollection  furnish  many  instances  of  his  powerful, 
and  soul-subduing  eloquence.  We  are  impelled  to  select,  from  the 
fading  Record,  two  facts,  which  are  well  authenticated  : — 


234  LIFE   OP   RET.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

A  London  mob  had  assembled  in  great  force,  with  the  most  destruc- 
tive and  murderous  designs.  Time-honoured  edifices  were  to  be  de- 
molished, and  the  weapons  of  death  to  be  pointed  at  the  most  valuable 
lives.  This  scene  of  riot  was  exhibited  during  the  troubles  relative  to 
Mr.  Wilkes  ;  all  was  tumult  and  tremendous  uproar  ;  an  attempt  at 
reasoning  was  stifled  by  outrageous  clamour  ;  the  efforts  of  peace  offi- 
cers were  fruitless,  and  the  military  was  on  the  point  of  being  called  into 
action,  when  Mr.  Murray,  returning  from  some  religious  meeting  to  hii 
peaceful  home,  found  himself  in  the  midst  of  the  infuriated  rioters,  and 
instantly  mounting  a  stand,  which  opportunely  presented,  he  harangued 
the  lawless  multitude  ;  and,  by  soothing  their  prejudices,  addressing 
their  passions,  arid  pointing  out  the  only  legitimate  steps  for  the  purpose 
of  obtaining  redress,  he  first  obtained  silence,  next  softeaed  and  ame- 
liorated their  passions,  and  finally  dispersed  without  mischief  a  most 
enraged  populace.  A  nobleman,  seizing  him  by  the  hand,  impressively 
said,  "  Young  man,  I  thank  you ;  I  am  ignorant  of  your  name,  but  I 
bear  testimony  to  your  wonderful  abilities.  By  your  exertions,  much 
blood  and  treasure  have  this  night  been  saved." 

The  second  instance  which  we  present  is  nearer  home.  A  motion 
was  made  in  the  legislature  of  a  sister  state,  then  province,  to  raise  a  sum 
of  money  rbr-4he  relief  of  the  Bostonians,  suffering  from  the  severe  de- 
crees of  a  British  ministry.  Mr.  Murray  attended  the  debates  ;  the 
motion  was  seconded,  and  supported,  with  spirit  and  judgment,  and  it 
was  opposed  with  some  violence,  and  little  reason.  It  was  put  to  vote, 
and  lost  by  a  majority  of  twelve  persons ;  Mr.Murray's  particular  adher- 
ents voting  against  it.  It  happened  he  was.  on  that  day,  to  dine  at  the  house 
of  a  Doctor  B — r— ,  one  of  the  triumphant  majority,  with  several  gen- 
tlemen on  the  same  side  of  the  question,  when  his  powerful  animadver- 
sions, and  reasoning  upon  the  subject,  wrought  so  great  a  revolution,  as 
to  produce  a  reconsideration  of  the  vote,  and  the  motion  for  succouring 
the  Bostonians,  passed  by  a  majority  of  nine  persons. 

Mr.  Murray  has  been  accused  of  licentious  opinions  and  practices. 
His  letters  to  his  friends  would  fill  many  volumes;  addressed  to  the 
private  ear  of  those  he  best  loved,  they  ought  to  decide  upon  his  opin- 
ions ;  and,  for  his  life,  perhaps  no  man  of  abilities  so  stinted  was  ever 
a  greater  blessing  to  mankind.  We  indulge  ourselves  with  giving  one 
letter,  written  to  the  son  of  a  most  intimate  friend  : — 

"  You  are  placed  at  school  for  two  purposes  ;  the  improvement  of 
your  understanding,  and  the  formation  of  virtuous  principles.  It  cannot 
be  doubted  that  the  improvement  of  the  heart  is  esteemed  by  those  to 


11FE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  235 

whom  you  are  most  dear,  beyond  the  most  cultivated  intellect  It  is 
your  business  to  unite  these  estimable  objects  ;  your  heart  and  under- 
standing should  be  emulous  in  pursuit  of  excellence.  Ethics,  improved 
and  elevated  by  the  Christian  religion,  become  the  guides  to  real  wis- 
dom and  solid  happiness  ;  these  they  could  never  have  attained  in 
the  schools  of  heathen  philosophy.  It  1s  not  expected  that  you  should 
thus  early  be  engaged  in  the  profound  disquisitions  of  theology.  The 
plain  doctrines  of  the  religion,  which  it  is  hoped  you  will  profess,  have 
been  explained  to  you  ;  but  the  principal  business  is  to  open  your  heart 
for  the  reception  of  those  sentiments  and  principles,  which  will  conduce 
to  the  direction  of  your  actions,  in  the  employments  and  engagements  of 
your  subsequent  life.  Permit  me,  however,  to  remind  you  of  the  ne- 
cessity of  reading  the  scriptures,  that  is,  of  drinking  the  sacred  waters  at 
the  fountain  head.  But,  to  read  the  scriptures  with  advantage,  judgment 
is  necessary,  and  as  your  judgment  is  not  yet  matured,  you  must  submit 
to  the  direction  of  your  instructors.  The  plainest,  and  most  perspicu- 
ous passages  will,  for  the  present,  best  deserve  and  reward  your  atten- 
tion. The  historical  parts  of  the  Old  Testament  will  entertain  you,  if 
you  consider  them  only  in  a  classical  point  of  view,  as  valuable  passages 
of  ancient  history ;  but  I  would  call  your  attention  more  immediately 
to  the  books  which  are  most  replete  with  moral  instruction,  such  as  the 
Proverbs  of  Solomon,  the  Wisdom  of  the  Son  of  Sirach,  and  the  ad- 
mirable book  entitled,  Ecclesiasticus.  I  trust  the  time  will  come,  when 
the  prophecies  will  most  pleasingly  instruct  you ;  at  present  you  will 
peruse  them  for  the  poetical  beauties,  which  they  confessedly  display. 
Isaiah  abousds  with  fine  passages  of  this  description,  and  Jeremiah  is 
by  no  means  deficient  in  this  line.  You  have  no  doubt  read  Pope's 
Messiah,  and  could  not  but  have  observed,  that  its  most  pleasing  image- 
ry is  selected  from  Isaiah.  If  you  read  the  Old  Testament  with  a  taste 
for  its  beauties,  you  will  accomplish  two  important  purposes ;  you  will 
acquire  a  knowledge  of  the  Holy  Bible,  which  is  your  duty,  and  you 
will  improve  your  taste  and  judgment.  The  New  Testament  requires 
the  attention  of  every  one,  who  professes  himself  a  Christian.  You 
must  read  it  with  that  humility,  which  becomes  a  finite  being,  but  more 
particularly  a  young  person ;  you  will  do  well  to  pay  especial  attention 
to  the  sermon  on  the  Mount,  and  to  that  admirable  epitome  of  all 
moral  philosophy,  the  RULE  OP  DOING  TO  OTHERS,  AS  WE  WOULD 
THEY  SHOULD  DO  UNTO  us.  If  you  pay  due  obedience  to  this  pre- 
cept, you  will  never  hesitate  in  determining  what  part  you  are,  upon 
<*very  occasion,  IQ  act.  It  is  proper  you  should  familiarize  your  mind 


LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

to  the  language  of  scripture  ;  although  you  may  not  fully  comprehend 
the  sacred  writings,  you  will  thus  treasure  up  in  your  memory  many 
useful  passages,  which  may  become  in  future  highly  consolatory.  An 
early  acquaintance  with  the  letter  of  the  old  and  new  testaments,  has 
been  found  substantial  props  through  lengthening  years ;  but  all  this, 
my  dear  young  friend,  will  avail  but  little,  unless  you  add  thereto 
prayer  and  praise.  Make  it  therefore  a  rule,  never  to  be  violated,  to 
pray  night  and  morning.  The  Redeemer,  while  clothed  in  humanity, 
earnestly  and  fervently  addressed  the  Deity  ;  forget  not,  therefore,  to 
offer  your  private  addresses  to  the  Father  of  your  spirit,  at  retiring  to 
rest,  and  with  the  early  dawn.  Your  age  is  the  age  of  inadvertence  ; 
you  enjoy  health,  and  you  are  a  stranger  to  the  cares  of  the  world. 
Cheerfulness  does  indeed  become  you,  but  let  me  pray  you  to  consider 
the  value  of  time,  and  the  importance  of  appropriating  it  to  wisdom. 
Consider  your  parents;  the  anxiety  they  experience  upon  your  account; 
most  ardently  do  they  desire  your  improvement.  Laudably  ambitious, 
they  are  solicitous  that  you  should  be  eminent,  in  whatever  profession 
or  employment  you  may  be  destined  to  engage.  To  see  you  con- 
temptible, would  fill  them  with  the  extreme  of  anguish  ;  and,  trust  me, 
nothing  will  rescue  you  from  contempt,  but  individual  merit,  a  good 
disposition,  adorned  by  literature,  and  embellished  by  the  lighter  ac- 
complishments, and  especially  elevated  by  Christianity.  Your  parents 
have  laboured  indefatigably,  to  promote  you  ;  but  it  remains  with  your- 
self to  give  success  to  their  endeavours.  The  mind  is  not  like  a  vessel, 
into  which  we  may  pour  any  good  quality,  whatever  the  director  may 
ehoose ;  it  is  rather  like  a  plant,  which,  by  the  operation  of  its  own 
internal  powers,  imbibes  the  nutriment  afforded  by  the  earth.  I  repeat ; 
it  is  certain,  that  instructors  can  serve  you  only,  in  conjunction  with 
your  own  efforts.  Let  me  then  entreat  you  to  exert  yourself,  if  you 
have  any  regard  for  those  parents,  whose  happiness  so  much  depends 
upon  your  conduct  ;  if  you  have  any  regard  for  your  own  honour, 
felicity,  and  prosperity ;  if  you  hope  to  be  useful,  and  respected  in 

society. 

"  Always  consider  me  as  your  friend  and  servant, 

JOHN  MURRAY." 

If  the  testimony  of  respectable  cotemporaries  ;  of  men  who  disdained 
flattery,  and  whose  judgment  was  unquestionable  ;  who  delighted  to 
address  our  departed  friend  in  the  strains  of  panegyric — if  these  vou- 
chers were  permitted  to  decide  in  his  favour,  we  could  produce  a  cloud 
of  witnesses.  We  content  ourselves  with  a  few  extracts,  from  the  ma- 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  267 

ny  letters  which  might  be  produced.  General  Greene  thus  writes  : 
"  You  may  remember,  I  promised  you  a  letter  at  the  close  of  every 
campaign.  H'id  I  the  tongue  of  a  Murray  to  proclaim,  or  the  pen  of 
a  Robertson  to  record,  the  occurrences  of  this  campaign  should  be  de- 
lineated to  the  honour  of  America-  The  Monmouth  battle,  and  the 
action  upon  Rhode- Island,  were  no  small  triumphs  to  us,  who  had  so 
often  been  necessitated  to  turn  our  backs.  To  behold  our  fellows, 
chafing  the  British  off  the  field  of  battle,  afforded  a  pleasure,  which  you 
can  better  conceive,  than  I  describe.  If,  my  dear  Murray,  I  had  be- 
fore been  an  unbeliever,  I  have  had  sufficient  evidence  of  the  interven- 
tion of  Divine  Providence,  to  reclaim  me  from  infidelity  ;  my  heart,  I 
do  assure  you,  overflows  with  gratitude  to  Him,  whose  arm  is  mightier 
than  all  the  Princes  of  the  earth.  In  the  midst  of  difficulties,  and  I 
have  encountered  many,  my  heart  reverts  to  you  ;  were  you  addressing 
me  from  the  pulpit,  you  could  convince  me  that  considering  the  World 
to  which  I  am  hastening,  I  have  not  the  least  cause  of  complaint — I 
sigh  for  an  opportunity  of  listening  to  the  music  of  your  voice. 

"Are  you  and  the  priests  upon  any  better  terms  ?  Or  are  they  as  mad 
vrith  you  as  ever  ?  Well,  go  on,  and  prosper,  and  may  God  bless  you 
to  the  end  of  the  chapter."  Again,  General  Greene  writes  :  "  It  is, 
my  dear  sir,  a  long  time  since  you  and  t  have  had  a  friendly  meeting. 
God  only  knows  when  we  shall  be  thus  blest.  It  is  impossible  for  me 
to  give  you  an  adequate  idea  of  the  distress  of  the  once  happy  people  of 
New  Jersey ;  I  know  your  fancy  is  lively,  and  your  genius  fertile  ; 
give  your  faculties  full  scope,  in  drawing  a  picture,  and  it  will  still  fall 
far  short  of  the  original.  How  greatly  would  you  be  pained  were  you 
present  ;  you  who  sympathize  with  every  thing  in  distress,  and  feel,  and 
share  the  miseries  of  all  around  you.  Oh,  my  dear  friend,  may  God 
preserve  you  from  such  complicated  distress.  Soon  after  you  left  me 
upon  Long  Island,!  was  seized  with  a  violent  fit  of  sickness  ;  my  resto- 
ration was  unexpected,  but  my  health  is  now  confirmed.  Oh  what 
would  I  give  for  a  few  hours  uninterrupted  conversation  with  our  dear 
Murray.  I  beseech  you  to  visit  Mrs.  Greene  in  Coventry/'  One 
more  extract  from  the  letters  of  General  Greene  shall  suffice.  "  Once 
more  on  the  close  of  the  campaign,  I  am  to  announce  to  my  very  dear 
friend,  that  I  am  still  an  inhabitant  of  this  globe.  We  have  had  a  hard 
and  bloody  campaign,  yet  we  ought  rather  to  dwell  upon  the  mercies 
we  have  receive J,  than  to  repine  because  they  are  not  greater.  But 
man  is  a  thankless  creature  ;  yet  you,  dear  Murray,  know,  that  the  mer- 
cies of  God  are  happily  proportioned  to  our  weakness.  Retired  to 

GG 


238  LIFE  OP  REV.  JOHN  MUPPAY. 

winter  quarters,  the  social  passions  once  more  kindled  into  life.  Love 
and  friendship  triumph  over  the  heart,  and  the  sweet  pleasure  of  do- 
mestic happiness,  call  to  remembrance  my  once  happy  circle  of  friends, 
in  which  you  my  dear  Sir,  appear  in  the  first  rank.  My  friendship  for 
you  is  indeed  of  the  warmest  description.  My  attachment  was  not 
hastily  formed,  and  it  will  not  easily  he  relinquished.  I  early  admired 
your  talents  ;  your  morals  have  earned  my  esteem  ;  and  neither  dis- 
tance nor  circumstances  will  diminish  my  affection." 

The  subjoined  extracts  are  from  letters  written  by  gentlemen  of  high 
respectability,  in  the  mercantile,  literary,  and  Christian  world.  The  first 
extract  is  from  a  letter,  soliciting  a  visit  from  the  Preacher. 

"  The  grand,  the  glorious  expedition,  in  which  you  are  engaged,  to 
disseminate  truth,  and  knowledge  ;  the  assurances  we  can  give  you 
how  little  is  known  here,  and  how  eagerly  it  is  wished,  that  the  ways  of 
God  to  man  should  be  made  manifest,  will  I  trust  induce  you  to  make 
an  exertion  in  our  behalf.  My  ardent  prayer  is  for  your  life,  and  health- 
The  harvest  truly  is  great,  but  the  labourers  are  few  ;  yet  I  trust  in 
God,  that  the  beams  of  light  will  irradiate  this  benighted  world,  and 
that  he  will  accelerate  that  eternal  day,  when  the  Son  shall  give  up  the 
kingdom  to  the  Father,  and  God  shall  be  all  in  all." 

"  You  solicit  me  to  write  ;  my  writing  can  afford  you  no  novelty, 
for  what  intellectual  ground  is  there,  that  you  have  not  trod,  or  that  I 
can  mark  out,  which  you  have  not  before  observed.  I  am  wearied 
with  reiterated  reflection,  and  I  pant  for  that  sky,  where  I  may  range 
without  confinement.  The  simple  truths  of  the  gospel  please  me  much. 
I  rest  in  confidence  that  Christ  died  for  me,  rose  again  for  my  justifica- 
tion, and  will  make  me  completely  blessed  ;  that  I  am  essentially  united 
to,  and  a  part  of  that  nature,  which  pervades  all  space,  and  a  spark  of 
that  fire,  that  shall  escape  to  heaven,  its  native  seat.  I  recollect  your 
preaching  with  pleasure,  and  I  bless  God  for  the  light  he  has  been 
pleased  to  convey  to  my  mind,  through  your  instrumentality  ;  may 
your  labours  be  blest  with  success  ;  but  I  predict  the  genuine  Gospel 
labourers  will  be  but  few.  Poor  man  !  you  must  stand  singly  oppos- 
ed, without  human  aid :  be  persuaded  that  the  conflict  will  be  inferior 
to  your  strength.  I  really  despise  the  world,  for  their  treatment  of  you ; 
but  you  know  who  says,  "  Be  of  good  cheer,  I  have  overcome  the 
/I'orW."  What  mildness  was  there  in  the  majesty  of  the  person  of 
the  Redeemer  !  He  could  have  been  no  other  than  the  Deity,  enrobed 
in  a  mantle  of  flesh.  I  venerate  the  liberal, the  magnanimous  principles 
of  your  general  and  your  colonel ;  and  I  love  them  tor  their  friendship 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  239 

for  you,  and  the  estimation  in  which  they  hold  you.  It  is  so  rare  to 
meet  with  liberal  and  enlarged  minds,  that  when  I  do,  I  exult  at  the 
discovery,  and  my  soul  leaps  to  embrace  them.  Should  you  have,  a 
vacant  moment,  you  will  do  well  to  fill  it  by  writing  to  us,  your  chil- 
dren." 

"  Never,  my  dear  Murray,  can  I  forget  you,  while  memory  holds 
her  seat  in  this  benighted  vale.  The  impressions  are  too  lasting  to  be 
effaged,  and  so  deeply  are  they  marked  together,  that,  when  the  ideas  of 
the  great  redemption  arise  in  my  mind,  those  of  Ilelly  and  Murray,  are 
inseparable  therefrom,  as  the  mediums  through  which  sublime  truth^ 
beamed  upon  my  soul.  I  am  desirous  of  anticipating  that  adult  age, 
you  so  beautifully  describe,  when  knowledge  shall  be  conveyed,  not  by 
the  obstructed  tongue,  or  tardy  pen,  but  by  intuition.  But,  my  dear 
sir,  you  must  wait  till  that  expected  day,  before  I  can  tell  you  how 
much  T  esteem,  how  much  I  love  you.  Among  a  number  of  things  you 
have  taught  me,  I  reckon  it  not  the  least,  that  the  disposal  of  human 
affairs  is  in  the  direction  of  a  Being,  whose  operations  will  always  pro- 
duce the  best  consequences.  I,  however,  find  it  difficult  to  suppress 
the  indignation  I  feel  at  the  treatment  you  receive.  What  shall  cure 
these  distempered  minds  1  what  shall  compose  the  tumult  of  their  fren- 
zy, or  rouse  their  feverish  repose  ?  not  the  skill  of  an  Isaiah,  nor  the 
prayers  of  a  Paul  ;  nothing  short  of  the  prescription  of  the  grand  Phy- 
sician, who  is  the  Healer  of  the  Nations,  and  the  application  of  that  tree, 
whose  leaf  is  for  medicine.  My  wishes  for  you  in  this  case  are  vain  ; 
but  I  can  never  appreciate  the  aspirations  of  my  heart  ;  not  that  you 
may  be  exempt  from  the  conflict,  but  that  you  may  conquer,  and  you 
will  conquer  ;  your  reward  is  above,  secure  from  the  rage  of  impotent 
man,  and  the  invasion  of  the  grand  adversary  of  human  nature." 

"  To  be  possessed  of  your  confidence  and  frindship,  would  be  flat- 
tering to  me  in  the  highest  degree.  My  wishes  are  to  deserve  both. 
You  do  indeed  appear  to  me  a  chosen  owe,  an  elect  soul.  Call  these 
expressions  extravagant  if  you  please,  but  they  are  as  far  short  of  what 
I  feel,  as  language  is  inadequate  to  the  expression  of  the  refined  taste  of 
the  mind." 

"  Among  the  almost  innumerable  systems,  respecting  our  nature, 
being,  and  our  end,  in  which  the  world  has  been  so  perplexed,  and 
have  exposed  themselves  so  variously,  none  claims  so  fair  a  title  to  truth 
as  the  one  you  promulgate.  But  the  world  have  not  so  liberally  attri- 
buted goodness  to  Deity.  Our  benignant  religion  develops  the  good- 
ness of  God  in  the  enlightening  sun,  the  fructifying  rain,  the  cheering 


240  LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

wine,  and  the  nutritious  bread  ;  in  short,  in  a  thousand  million  exam- 
ples, with  which  nature  so  liberally  abounds.  Indeed  we  should  sel- 
dom be  unhappy,  did  we  more  constantly  realize  the  presence  of  a 
redeeming  God.  I  admire  the  candour  of  your  mind,  which  is  ever 
stepping  forth,  as  the  advocate  of  your  friends,  although  I  may  occa- 
sionally drop  from  that  stand  in  your  friendship,  which  it  would  be  my 
pride  to  maintain  ;  it  is  a  persuasion,  which  I  can  never  relinquish,  that 
the  wanderings  of  my  heart  may  be  reclaimed  in  an  instant.  Your  let- 
ters are  present  with  me,  tliey  are  under  my  pillow  ;  I  bind  them  to 
me  as  phylacteries,  and  I  attentively  watch  for  a  moment  of  leisure,  to 
acknowledge  them.  Murray,  should  you  pass  out  of  time  before  me,  I 
should  experience  some  exquisitely  painful  sensations.  O  !  may  you 
be  for  a  long,  long  time  to  come,  invulnerable  to  the  shafts  of  disease  ; 
yet  why  should  I  wish  to  turn  the  dart,  that  will  give  you  passport  to 
a  life  of  bliss  and  immortality  !  You  who  agonize  at  the  present  state 
of  existence.  No,  let  me  neither  accelerate,  nor  retard,  even  by  a  wish, 
that  period  of  humanity,  but  invoke  our  common  Father  that  we  may 
be  strengthened  by  the  way,  and  with  faith  and  patience  quietly  wait 
the  expected  release." 

"  Your  letter,  my  dear  Murray,  is  like  a  great  magazine,  full  of  in- 
struction and  entertainment.  Were  I  to  attempt  to  give  it  due  and  just 
consideration,  I  should  write  a  volume,  and  probably  not  succeed  at 
last.  You  say,  and  I  believe  it,  that  we  shall  be  built  up  again  upon 
a  superior  principle.  The  world  is  so  involved  in  the  wicked  one,  that 
I  am  really  glad  to  find  any  one  willing  to  allow  the  goodness  of  God, 
in  any  view  ;  it  is  at  least  one  step  toward  a  just  way  of  thinking.  I 
pray  you  to  be  content  with  your  present  standing,  you  are  too  infirm 
to  visit  far  from  home  ;  where  you  speak,  you  are  heard  by  many 
strangers,  who  enter  your  Capital,  whom  you  know  not,  but  who  hear, 
and  know  you  ;  so  I  think  your  station  is  clearly  pointed  out,  to  which 
you  do  well  to  adhere.  I  regret  exceedingly,  that  I  cannot  attend  your 
expositions  of  the  ceremonial  Law,  in  which  I  understand  you  are  en- 
gaged. Those  laws  are  a  deep  and  rich  mine  of  instruction.  The 
Scriptures  are  ONE,  like  a  great  EPIC  ;  their  action  is  ONE,  the  RES- 
TORATION of  a  LOST  NATURE.  The  subordinate  parts  evidently  point 
to  the  great  HEAD  and  captain  of  our  salvation.  Go  on,  my  dear  Sir, 
and  may  you  be  the  means  of  bringing  many  sons  to  glory.  Allow  me 
to  say,  you  ought  to  write  more  frequently  ;  your  diligence  and  activi- 
ty are  well  known  to  me,  but  it  seems  incumbent  upon  you  to  give  to 
the  world  your  explanations  of  the  sacred  writings.  Yes,  I  repeat, 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  2ii 

you  would  do  well  to  bestow  some  portion  of  your  time  to  record  and 
elucidate,  many  passages  which,  when  you  are  gone,  may  speak  for 
you.  The  event  of  your  death,  however  dreaded,  must  be  met  by  the 
greater  part  of  your  hearers,  and,  although  they  may  have  remaining  to 
them  the  sacred  writings,  yet  you  are  aware,  that  a  preacher  is  necessa- 
ry. I  have  compared  you  to  some  of  the  general  elements  of  life,  whose 
good  and  salubrious  existences  are  not  known,  until  they  are  lost.  I 
consider  you  employed  in  removing  the  scales  from  the  darkened  eye* 
fortifying  the  timid  mind  against  the  approaching  dissolution  of  nature, 
securing  it  from  the  blandishments  of  delusion,  and  leading  it  to 
arm  against  the  terrors  of  calamity  and  pain.  I  myself  am  indebted  to 
you  in  hundreds  of  instances  for  light,  and  most  important  information. 
I  need  not  repeat  my  best  wishes  to  you  ;  they  present  themselves  to 
me  in  full,  whenever  your  memory  occurs  to  nie.  I  feel  that  it  is  here- 
after, when  you  and  I  are  liberated,  that  I  shall  derive  a  part  of  my 
happiness  from  the  perfection  of  your  friendship.  May  the  least  and 
lightest  pains  infest  you  here  ;  this  is  the  utmost  a  mortal  dare  wish,  or 
request." 

"  Yes,  my  dear  Sir,  I  am  now  sensible  of  the  value  of  existence  ;  arid 
the  assurance  of  immortality  has  become  my  greatest  happiness.  The 
time  was,  when,  to  my  serious  moments,  immortality  appeared  garbed 
in  horror  ;  many  a  time  have  I  wished  I  had  never  been  born  ;  but, 
blessed  change,  I  can  now  perceive  that  light,  which  shined  in  me,  even 
then, — although  my  darkness  comprehended  it  not ;  but,  blessed  be 
God,  my  eyes  are  at  length  opened.  O  !  may  God,  all-gracious,  watch 
over  you,  and  preserve  you  from  every  evil.  The  Almighty  in  great 
mercy  hath  loaned  you  to  a  benighted  world ;  may  the  rich  blessing 
be  long  continued." 

"  Gratitude,  dear  and  honoured  Sir,  calls  upon  me  to  acknowledge 
my  great  obligations  for  the  glorious  declaration  of  those  important, 
truths,  of  which,  until  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  Mr.  Murray,  I  was 
entirely  ignorant.  From  that  blessed  era,  I  date  the  commencement 
of  my  terrestrial  felicity.  Ttis  to  you,  as  an  instrument,  I  am  indebted 
for  a  glimpse  of  the  beautiful  harmony  of  the  sacred  writings  ;  I  can 
now  behold,  with  devout  admiration,  the  great  salvation  promised  us 
by  the  word,  by  the  OATH  of  Jehovah,  in  that  holy  book,  which,  although 
possessed  by  many,  is  neither  understood  nor  valued,  except  by  a  few 
elected  individuals.  I  much  wish  for  your  continued  instruction;  and  I 
know .  you  take  pleasure  in  considering  it  your  duty  to  impart  your 
knowledge  of  the  Redeemer  to  the  creature,  whom  He  hath  purchased 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

with  His  blood.  Would  it  were  the  will  of  God  to  give  you  a  perma- 
nent standing  among  the  circle  of  my  friends,  who  are  so  greatly  devo- 
ted to  you ;  then,  dear  Sir,  would  our  heaven  be  commenced  upon 
earth,  and  all  would  be  one  continued  scene  of  uninterrupted  praises 
and  thanksgiving,  for  the  great  Redemption,  wrought  out  by  the  death 
and  sufferings  of  our  blessed  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ." 

"  Murray,  how  greatly  you  succeed,  when  engaged  upon  a  theme 
which  I  emphatically  call  YOUR  OWN.  I  love  to  hear  you  speak  upon 
any  subject ;  but  on  this,  you  are,  I  had  almost  said,  divine  ;  your 
whole  soul  seems  engaged,  when  dwelling  upon  the  Redeemer,  and 
His  love  to  man  ;  nothing  but  the  voice  of  the  God  who  made  you,  and 
who  hath  so  wonderfully  endowed  you,  can  exceed  the  honied  accents 
of  your  heaven-inspired  tongue.  Do  you  wonder  that  I  am  daily 
wishing  myself  among  the  number  of  your  hearers,  your  happy  hearers ! 
but  how  contrasted  is  the  life  of  a  soldier,  to  that  of  the  peaceful  Chris- 
tian, seated  at  the  feet  of  Jesus." 

A  respectable  gentleman,  writing,  nearly  two  years  since,  from  the 
City  of  Philadelphia,  and  speaking  relative  to  the  recent  publication  of 
the  venerable,  the  now  departed  saint,  gratefully  says  :  "These  volumes, 
your  Letters  and  Sketches,  are  all  I  hoped  for,  wished,  or  expected  • 
they  are  much  more.  I  bless  God,  not  only  for  the  treasures  of  wis- 
dom committed  to  his  venerable  servant,  but  also  that  his  valuable  life 
has  been  preserved  to  accomplish  this  work ;  a  production,  which  will 
live,  and  be  read  with  ineffable  delight,  when  the  rubbish  of  ages  shall 
have  been  consigned  to  oblivion." 

Should  any  curiosity  exist  respecting  Mr.  Murray's  political  senti- 
ments, it  may  be  sufficient  to  say,  that  he  was  in  heart  an  AMERICAN. 
AMERICA  was  the  Country  of  his  adoption.  He  was  decidedly  and 
uniformly  opposed  to  the  oppression  of  the  British  ministry,  and  he 
would  have  embraced  any  upright  measures  to  have  procured  redress  ; 
yet,  perhaps,  he  wouid  have  been  as  well  pleased,  had  England  and 
America  been  united  upon  terms  of  equality  and  reciprocal  benefit;  nor 
can  it  be  denied,  that  he  was,  indubitably,  an  Anti-Gallican.  In  our 
opinion,  a  total  dereliction  of  Country  stamps  miscreant  upon  the  in- 
dividual, who  harbours  feelings,  so  reprehensible,  England  was  the 
native  Country  of  the  Preacher  ;  the  virtues  flourished  in  his  bosom, 
among  which  the  amor  patriae  glowed  with  no  common  lustre.  He 
frequently  amused  himself  with  writing  in  numbers,  which,  so  soon  as 
written,  he  generally  committed  to  the  flames.  The  following  inartifi- 
cial lines,  written  one  hour  after  he  received  intelligence  of  the  demise 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  24$ 

«f  the  celebrated,  and  meritorious  Earl  of  Chatham,  may  be  considered 
as  a  correct  delineation  of  his  political  views  and  wishes. 

"  Swift  on  the  car  of  fancy  borne  along, 
And  safely  landed  on  my  native  Isle, 
I  join  the  mourning  train,  assembled  there, 
And  stand  unnoticed  near  the  hallow'd  corse  : 
I  mark  the  empty  pageantry  of  state, 
A  pageantry,  alas  !  not  empty  here, 
For  here  are  real  signs  of  real  woe ; 
All  ranks,  all  orders,  mingle  in  the  throng ; 
Some  raise  the  voice  in  majesty  of  woe  : 
Some  silent  stand  as  statues — pale  with  grief—- 
At sight  of  these,  my  tears  more  copious  flow. 

Hark — from  yon  seat  a  voice  assails  my  ear, 
Than  music  in  its  softest  strains  more  sweet. 
'Tis  Camden  !  favoured  sage,  exalted  chief, 
He  calls  his  mourning  country  to  attend, 
As  thus  he  pours  the  elegiac  strain. 

"  From  life's  low  vale,  where  all  was  calm  repose, 
And,  taught  by  heaven,  the  mind  drank  classic  lore, 
To  the  tumultuous  scenes  of  busy  life, 
This  peerless  man,  in  hour  of  dread  dismay, 
By  pitying  heaven,  in  mercy  to  our  land, 
Was  summon'd  forth.     He  gracious  heard,  and  came, 
Hail'd  by  Britannia's  united  voice  ; 
His  royal  master  look'd  benignly  kind, 
And  bade  him  welcome  to  his  arms,  his  heart ; 
For  howsoe'er  remote  their  varied  spheres, 
Congenial  souls,  'twould  seem,  inform'd  them  both. 

No  longer  view'd  as  servant,  but  as  friend, 
In  all  his  Sovereign's  councils  he  had  part, 
Their  hopes  and  fears,  their  aims  and  ends  the  same, 
The  Nation  gave  her  treasures  to  his  care, 
Himself  the  richest  TREASURE  she  possess'd  ; 
And  anxious  eyes  from  every  rank  were  rais'd, 
With  serious  awe,  and  steadfast  hope  to  Him  ; 
Nor  were  their  hopes,  their  expectations  vain. 
New  life,  new  views,  fresh  vigor  nerv'd  his  arm  : 
All  that  was  wrong,  his  vigilance  set  right, 
And,  what  was  greater  far,  preserv'd  it  so. 
The  foes  he  met  (for  who  from  foes  is  free) 
Were,  to  the  peerless  jewel  of  his  worth, 
Like  toiling  lapidary  to  the  costly  gem, 
They  made  its  brightness  more  conspicuous  shine. 

The  fawning  sycophant  oft  sought  his  smile, 
But  piercing  eye-beams  struck  the  caitiff  blind  ; 
The  foes  to  virtue  trembled  at  his  nod, 
While  her  glad  sons  flock'd  hovering  round  their  Sire. 


•241  UFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

The  Merchant  watch' d  his  eye  ;  the  sons  of  Art, 
The  Swain  who  turns  the  glebe,  but  chiefly  he 
On  glory  bent,  who  plough' d  the  watery  way, 
Panting  to  grasp  the  treasures  of  the  globe, 
He  carefully  this  Pole-star  still  observ'd, 
And  safely  voyaged,  with  this  star  in  view. 
How  wild,  alas  !  he'll  wander  now  'tis  hid. 

The  secrets  of  all  states,  blest  heaven-taught  sage. 
To  thy  pervading  eye  were  all  unveil'd, 
And  every  dark  intrigue  was  known  to  thee. 
The  Gallic  power  trembled  at  thy  nod, 
And  proud  Castalia,  cowering,  bent  to  thee. 
In  dire  suspense  the  awe-struck  Nations  stood, 
Nor  could  predict  where  next  would  burst  the  storm. 

Lo  !  as  he  points,  our  Castles  float  along, 
And  British  thunders  roil  from  shore  to  shore  ; 
The  sooty  tribes  of  Afric  shrink  appal  I'd, 
And  China's  crafty  sons  distrust  their  skill. 

In  this  great  Legislator's  hand,  our  flag, 
Like  that  fam'd  wand  into  a  serpent  chang'd, 
As  Hebrew  sages  sung  in  days  of  yore, 
Made  every  other  flag  obsequious  bow, 
And  every  Nation  own'd  or  felt  his  power. 
But,  while  remotest  lands  through  fear  obey'd. 
His  grateful  Country  serv'd  w  th  filial  love, 
And  every  son  of  Albion  shar'd  his  care. 

Nor  did  the  British  garden,  blooming  round, 
Alone  engage  the  heavenly  labourer's  toil ; 
With  watchful  eye  he  v.^w'd  those  tender  shoots, 
Whilome  transplanted  to  Columbia's  soil  ; 
Those  tender  lambs  he  gently  led  along, 
And  to  their  plaints  still  bent  a  parent's  ear. 
Dear,  much  lov'd  offspring  of  this  happy  Isle, 
With  us,  sincere,  ye  mourn  the  common  loss  ; 
With  us  lament  the  Father  and  the  Friend  : 
But,  while  our  bursting  heart*  deplore  his  flight, 
Perfidious  Bourbon  ghastly  grins  hia  joy  ; 
The  Gallic  Cock  now  frebly  claps  his  wings 
And  thinks  to  hear  the  Lion  roar  no  more. 
Base,  treacherous,  cringiiiff,  dastard  slaves,  beware  j 
Although  our  Sun  be  set  to  rise  no  more, 
The  moon  and  stars  shall  gu'ile  the  Lion's  paw 
To  seize  thee  trembling  in  thy  close  retreat. 
Already  mark  !  he  shai.es  Ins  shaggy  mane, 
And  growling  ri:->es  from  his  murUy  den  ; 
His  eye-balls  roll  with  rag? — they  shoot  forth  flames., 
He  grinds  his  teeth,  and  finds  them  solid  still  ; 
He  tries  his  paws,  and  finds  his  talons  strong. 
Our  groans  have  rous'd  him  ;  see,  he  sleeps  no  more. 
But  still  the  royal  issue  of  this  Isle, 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

This  highly  favour'd  regent  of  the  main, 
Secure  may  stand,  nor  fear  the  Lion's  rage. 

What  though  the  DEMONS  of  THIS  LAND  may  strive, 
To  set  the  gen'rous  Lion  on  her  sons, 
The  Lion  shrinks— so  ancient  Bards  declare — 
Nor  will  destroy  the  issue  nobly  born. 
But  those  perfidious,  who  would  set  him  on, 
With  ghastly  looks,  and  souls  appall'd  by  fear, 
Too  late  shall  feel  the  horrors  of  despair." 

But  it  is  the  RELIGIONIST  we  are  solicitous  to  characterize  ;  and  al- 
though the  sentiments  of  the  Preacher  may  be  gathered  from  his  wri- 
tings, yet,  as  this  Volume  may  come  under  the  eye  of  some  individuals, 
who  may  not  possess  the  publication  to  which  we  have  so  often  alluded, 
it  may  be  proper,  in  this  place  to  attempt  a  bnef  outline  of  the  most 
prominent  features  in  his  creed. 

His  full  soul  believed  in  one  GREAT  AND  INDIVISIBLE  FIRST  CAUSE, 
or  origin  of  all  created  beings ;  before  this  great  First  Cause  ONE  ETER- 
NAL NOW,  WAS,  is,  AND  WILL  BE  EVER  PRESENT.  Every  thing  which 
has  past,  is  passing,  or  shall  pass,  was  ordained  in  His  eternal  purpose, 
and  actually  passed  in  review  before  Him,  ere  ever  the  worlds  were 
formed,  or  countless  systems  commenced  their  revolutions. 

The  God  of  our  Philanthropist  was  OMNIPOTENT,  OMNIPRESENT? 
and  OMNISCIENT  ;  consequently  he  performed  all  his  will ;  was,  is,  and 
will  be,  present  through  all  space,  through  time  and  through  eternity. 
In  the  prosecution  of  His  plans,  myriads  of  angels,  in  their  various  or- 
ders, were  by  his  Omnipotent  power  commanded  into  being  ;  these 
cherubim  and  seraphim,  angels  and  arch  angels,  surrounded  the  throne 
of  the  Most  High.  The  inorning  stars  sang  together,  and  all  the  hosts 
of  Heaven  rejoiced. 

But,  strange  as  it  may  appear  to  our  finite  understanding,  fell  dis- 
cord, with  peace-destroying  influence,  reared  his  hydra,  his  tremendous 
head.  Various  conjectures  hover  round  this  phenomenon.  The  ori- 
gin of  evil  has  exercised  intellects  the  most  profound  and  erudite  ;  but 
he,  who  can  develop  the  arcana  of  the  Almighty,  may  claim  equality 
with  his  God.  It  should  be  our  care  not  to  attribute  to  Deity  a  mode 
of  conduct  irreconcealible  with  rectitude  ;  and  to  keep  close  to  that  reve- 
lation, which  he  hath  graciously  vouchsafed  to  bestow  upon  us. 

The  creation  of  man  succeeded  the  fall  of  the  angelic  nature.  God 
said, — Let  Us  make  man,  &c.  &c./  Speaking  in  the  plural,  with  an 
eye  to  the  complexity  of  that  character  He  had  predetermined  to  assume, 
and,  as  we  before  observed,  past,  present.,  and  future  constituted,  to  the 


240  WFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

ken  of  Deity,  one  complete  whole  ;  and  thus  were  important  occurren- 
ces garbed  in  language,  suited  to  the  elevation  of  the  Godhead.  In 
process  of  time,  this  august  Creator,  was  to  be  enrobed  in  humanity  and 
become  the  SON  born  ;  was  to  be  exhibited  as  a  HOLY  SPIRIT  of  con- 
solation, taking  of  the  things  of  Jesus,  and  exhibiting  them  to  the  mind, 
thus  speaking  peace.  Mr.  Murray  was  at  the  same  time  a  UNITARIAN, 
and  a  TRINITARIAN,  beholding,  constantly  beholding  the  trinity  in  the 
unity.  LET  us  make  man  in  our  image,  after  our  own  likeness. —  Yea, 
verily,  man  may  be  considered  as  made  in  the  imnge,  and  after  the  like- 
ness of  his  Creator.  The  figure  is  striking  ;  man  is  a  triune  being,  body, 
soul,  and  spirit,  yet  no  individual  is  considered  as  three,  but  one  man, 
the  TRINITY  in  UNITY.  The  Almighty,  clad  in  garments  of  flesh, 
became  the  GOD-MAN,  and,  speaking  of  Himself  as  man,  he  says,  my 
Father  is  greater  than  me  ;  while,  reverting  to  the  divinity,  he  affirms, 
the  Father  and  He  are  ONE.  Philip,  have  I  been  so  long  with  thee, 
and  dost  thou  say,  show  me  the  Father  ?  he  who  hath  seen  me,  hath 
seen  the  Father.  Was  this  true, — or  was  Jesus  Christ  an  Impostor  ? 
In  this  view  the  scriptures  are  beautifully  consistent.  I  am  GOD  THE 
SAVIOUR  ;  a  just  God  and  a  Saviour  ;  THERE  is  NONE  BESIDE  ME. — 
This  same  evangelical  prophet  exultingty  exclaims,  Isaiah  ix.  6.  Unto 
us  a  child  is  born,  unto  us  a  son  is  given,  his  name  shall  be  called  Won- 
derful, Counsellor,  the  mighty  God,  the  everlasting  Father,  the  Prince 
of  Peace.  Such  were  the  comprehensive  views  of  Doity,  which  became 
more  and  more  luminous  to  the  mental  eye  of  the  Preacher. 

He  believed,  that  the  creation  of  human  beings  made  a  part  of  the  di- 
vine purpose  ;  in  which  sacred,  uncontrolable,  and  irreversible  purpose, 
the  WHOLE  FAMILY  OF  MAN  were  originally  and  intimately  united  to 
their  august  Creator,  in  a  manner  MYSTERIOUS,  and  as  much  beyond 
our  limited  conception,  as  the  Creator  is  superior  to  the  creature  whom 
HE  hath  formed. 

Adam  the  first  was  a  figure  of  Adam  the  second.  Adam  the  first, 
the  prototype  ;  Adam  the  second,  the  substance  of  the  prototype,  the 
Creator  of  all  Worlds,  the  Lord  from  Heaven.  The  sacred  scriptures 
abound  with  figures  of  this  mysterious,  this  ennobling,  this  soul-satisfy- 
ing UNION  ;  among  which,  perhaps,  none  is  more  expressive  than  that 
of  the  Head  and  Members  constituting  one  body,  of  wrhich  Jesus  Christ 
was  the  immaculate  Head.  Hence  the  propriety  and  necessity,  of  look- 
ing with  a  single  eye  to  Jesus  Christ.  We  are  members  of  the  body 
of  Christ,  who  is  the  head  of  every  man  :  Should  a  single  member  of 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  247 

this  mystical  body  be  finally  lost,  the  Redeemer  must,  through  eternity, 
remain  IMPERFECT. 

A  Law  was  given,  to  the  complete  obedience  of  which,  everlasting 
life  was  annexed  ;  but  no  individual  member  was  ever  able  to  fulfil  this 
Law  ;  it  was  only  the  head  and  members  collectively  in  their  glorious 
head,  that  was  furnished  with  abilities  adequate  to  a  performance  of 
such  vast  magnitude.  Yea  verily,  we  do  indeed  break  the  divine  Law* 
in  thought,  in  word,  and  in  deed,  and  the  lip  of  truth  declares,  he  who 
offends  in  one  point  is  guilty  of  all. 

Why  then  was  the  commandment  so  exceeding  broad  ?  To  con- 
vince mankind  of  imbecility  ;  and  that  the  rectitude  they  had  forfeited, 
could  never,  in  their  own  individual  characters,  be  regained.  But  the 
plan  of  Deity  was  without  an  error,  the  revolution  of  time  ushered  in 
the  great  Representative,  or  more  properly  speaking,  the  Head  of  the 
body  ;  and  the  forfeit  was  paid,  full  atonement  was  presented,  the  ran- 
som given,  and,  in  this  hour  of  NATURE'S  JUBILEE,  the  prodigal  family 
restored  to  their  original  possessor. 

To  make  this  truth  manifest  was  the  great  business  of  our  Promulga- 
tor.  He  was  convinced,  that  only  he,  who  believed,  could  be  saved  ; 
and  that  he,  who  believed  not,  was  indubitably  damned.  Hence  he. 
has  frequently  said,  he  did  not  believe  in  universal  salvation,  because  he 
saw  the  majority  of  mankind  were  not  saved.  But  he  was  a  firm  be- 
liever in  UNIVERSAL  REDEMPTION  ;  because  that  sacred  volume,  which 
he  steadfastly,  and  unwaveringly  believed  to  be  the  word  of  God,  as- 
sured him  the  price  was  paid,  and  the  whole  human  family  was  re- 
deemed. 

It  was  the  neglecting  to  distinguish  between  salvation  and  redemp- 
tion, which  so  frequently  drew  upon  the  preacher  the  charge  of  prevarica- 
tion, or,  as  it  was  termed  by  Mr.  C ,  hiding.  An  article  of  intelli- 
gence may  be  an  established  fact  ;  it  may  most  importantly  affect  us  ; 
but  so  long  as  the  mind  refuses  to  admit  its  authenticity,  we  are  undeni- 
ably subjected  to  all  those  agonizing  apprehensions,  which  we  should 
endure,  if  no  such  fact  existed  ;  and  it  was  the  salvation  from  these 
mental  sufferings,  which  Mr.  Murray  supposed  consequent  upon  a 
preached  Gospel  ;  in  other  words,  an  exemption  from  those  tortures, 
that  consciousness  of  condemnation,  which  is  most  emphatically  des- 
cribed, when  it  is  said,  He  who  believeth  not,  is,  or  shall  be  damned. 

Yet  it  is  an  established  truth,  that  every  believer  was  once  an  unbe- 
liever ;  every  believer,  then,  was  once  damned,  and  it  was  only  when 
he  became  a  believer,  that  he  was  saved  from  those  countless  agonies. 


248  LIFfe    OP    REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 

which  erst  times  pierced  him  through  with  many  sorrows.  But  he  was 
redeemed,  the  price  was  paid,  ere  ever  he  was  called  into  existence. 
Thus,  in  this  view,  redemption  and  salvation  are  distinct  considerations. 
The  Preacher  unhesitatingly  believed,  all  who  learned  of  the  Father 
would  come  to  Jesus,  and  that  all  would  finally  be  taught  of  God.  He 
was  a  decided  believer  in  the  doctrine  of  angels  of  light,  and  angels  of 
darkness,  of  ministering  spirits  of  light,  and  of  demons  stimulating  to 
deeds  of  darkness.  He  looked  forward  to  a  judgment  to  come,  when 
countless  numbers,  among  the  children  of  men,  would  rise  to  the  resur- 
rection of  damnation,  and,  ignorant  of  the  genuine  character  of  the  Re- 
deemer, would  call  upon  the  rocks  and  mountains  to  fall  upon  them, 
and  hide  them  from  the  WRATH  OF  THE  LAMB  ;  and,  believing  himself 
a  humble  instrument  in  the  hand  of  God,  ordained  by  Him  to  the  min- 
istry of  reconciliation,  he  was  never  so  completely  happy,  as  when  de- 
claring the  gospel  to  be  believed  ;  and  calling  upon  men,  every  where, 
to  receive  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation.  He  was  persuaded  that  those, 
who  lied  down  in  sorrow,  would  continue  unhappy  wanderers,  until 
the  opening  of  that  book,  in  which  every  human  being,  every  member 
of  Christ  was  written  ;  yet  he  had  no  idea  of  any  purgation  for  sin,  save 
what  was  suffered  by  Christ  Jesus,  who,  by  Himself,  purged  our  sins. 
Writing  of  Mr.  Winchester  to  a  friend,  Mr.  Murray  thus  expressed 
himself,  "  Mr.  Winchester  is  full  with  Mr.  Law,  and  of  course  preach- 
es purgatorial  satisfaction.  According  to  these  gentlemen,  every  man 
must  finally  be  his  own  Saviour  !  If  I  must  suffer  as  much,  in  my  own 
person,  as  will  satisfy  divine  justice,  how  is,  or  how  can  Christ  Jesus  be, 
my  Saviour  ?  If  this  purgatorial  doctrine  be  true,  the  ministry  of  re- 
conciliation, committed  to  the  Apostles,  must  be  false  ;  "  to  wit,  God 
was  in  Christ  reconciling  the  world  unto  himself,  not  imputing  unto 
them  their  trespasses."  In  fact,  I  know  no  persons  further  from  Chris- 
tianity, genuine  Christianity,  than  such  Universalists." 

Mr.Murray  supposed  the  inquietude  of  unembodied,  or  departed  spir- 
its, a  natural  effect,  derived  from  a  cause.  As  unbelievers,  they  cannot 
see  the  things  which  belong  to  their  peace  ;  but  he  greatly  rejoiced,  that 
however  at  present  enveloped  in  darkness,  there  were,  and  are,  things 
that  did  and  do  belong  to  their  peace,  that  the  day  cometh,  when  what- 
soever is  hid  shall  be  revealed,  and,  that  at  the  period  of  the  restitution 
of  all  things,  the  word,  the  oath  of  Jehovah  was  pledged,  that  every  eye 
should  see,  and  every  tongue  confess.  The  Preacher  was  persuaded 
that  a  few,  even  in  the  present  dispensation,  were  elected  out  of  the 
world,  to  embrace  the  truth,  previous  to  their  passing  out  of  time. 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY.  249 

These,  judging  themselves,  are  therefore  not  to  be  judged  ;  Saints  of 
God,  they  shall  surround  the  Redeemer  at  his  second  coming,  or  be 
caught  up  in  the  air  to  meet  the  GOD-MAN  ;  after  which,  the  whole 
world  shall  be  summoned  at  the  imperial  bar  of  the  Sire  of  angels  and 
of  men,  the  Creator  of  all  worlds  :  That  a  separation  will  then  take 
place  ;  the  Judge,  the  Redeemer  will  divide  them,  as  a  shepherd  divides 
the  sheep  from  the  goats  ;  will  separate  every  individual  from  that  body 
of  sin  and  death,  of  which  Paul  complained,  being  burdened  ;  from 
that  fallen  spirit,  which  attaches  to  every  individual  in  such  sort  as  to 
the  man  among  the  tombs,  rendering  it  a  truth,  that  he  who  sleepeth, 
apparently  alone  upon  his  bed,  is,  nevertheless,  still  connected  with  his 
tormentor,  and  will  so  continue,  until  this  glorious  day  of  separation, 
and  of  restitution  ;  when  these  two  shall  be  separated,  one  from  anoth- 
er, the  one  taken,  and  the  other  left.  The  fallen  angels,  figured  by  the 
goats,  shall  be  ranged  on  the  left  hand,  while  the  harassed  human  na- 
ture, redeemed  by  the  God  who  created  it,  shall  be  found  on  the  right 
hand  of  the  MOST  HIGH.  Thus,  after  the  world  is  judged,  out  of  the 
things  written  in  the  books  ;  after  they  are  found  guilty  before  God, 
and  every  mouth  is  stopped,  the  BOOK  of  LIFE  SHALL  BE  OPENED,  IN 

WHICH  ALL  THE  MEMBERS  OF  THE  REDEEMER,  EVERY  INDIVIDUAL  OF 

THE  HUMAN  FAMILY,  SHALL  BE  FOUND  WRITTEN  ;  and  the  ransomed 
of  the  Lord  shall  be  declared  denizens  of  that  kingdom,  where  dwelleth 
felicity  uninterrupted. 

Such  were  the  leading  sentiments  of  OUR  UNIVERSALIST  ;  and  he 
was  firmly  of  opinion,  that  the  doctrines  of  the  Gospel,  rightly  under- 
stood, would  teach  men,  every  where,  to  be  careful  of  maintaining  good 
works,  to  love  one  another,  and  in  all  things  to  regard  the  best  interestg 
of  their  BROTHER  MAN. 

Conversant  with  the  Preacher  upwards  of  forty  years,  we  never  knew 
his  testimony  to  vary,  in  the  smallest  degree.  In  joy  and  in  sorrow, 
in  health,  in  sickness,  and  in  death,  not  a  single  cloud  appeared  to  ga- 
ther upon  the  Countenance  of  his  God,  or  to  obstruct,  so  far  as  it  re- 
ferred to  his  prospects  beyond  the  grave,  the  clear  sunshine  of  His  soul. 

If  we  except  the  Rev.  John  Tyler,  episcopalian  minister  in  Nor- 
wich, Connecticut,  and  the  Rev.  Edward  Mitchell  in  the  city  of  New- 
York,  we  do  not  know  that  the  sentiments  of  any  Preacher  of  Univer- 
salism,  now  upon  this  Continent,  are  exactly  in  unison  with  the  departed 
Promulgator.  But,  if  they  build  upon  the  great  foundation,  we  de- 
voutly wish  them  God  speed  ;  well  assured,  that  those  who  build  upon 
this  foundation — goW,  silver,  precious  s/o??fs,  wooc/,  Aery,  stubble — eve- 


250 


LIFE  OF  REV.  JOHN  MURRAY. 


ry  man's  work  shall  be  made  manifest.  For  the  day  shall  declare  it, 
because  it  shall  be  revealed  by  fire  ;  and  the  fire  shall  try  every  man's 
work*  of  what  sort  it  is.  If  any  man's  work  abide  which  he  hath  built 
thereupon,  he  shall  receive  a  reward.  Jfany  maw's  work  shall  be  burnt, 
he  shall  stiffen*  loss,  but  he  himself  shall  be  saved  ;  yet  so,  as  by  fire. 

Mr.  Murray's  last  marriage  was  the  result  of  a  strong  and  holy 
friendship,  founded  upon  the  Rock  of  ages  ;  and,  originating  in  devout 
admiration  of  redeeming  love,  it  is  fervently  hoped,  and  unwaveringly 
believed,  that  this  Union  will  be  perfected  in  ANOTHER  AND  A  BETTER 
WORLD. 

One  son,  and  one  daughter,  were  the  Offspring  of  this  marriage. 
The  son  surrendered  his  innocent  life  in  the  birth  ;  the  daughter  still 
survives,  the  prop,  and  consolation  of  her  WIDOWED  MOTHER. 


TO    BS    SOLD   AT    FRANKLIN-PLACE,    NO.    6,   BOSTON, 

LETTERS 

AND 

SKETCHES    OF   SERMONS. 

In  three  Octavo  Volumes. 

BY  REVEREND  JOHN  MURRAY. 


CONTAINING 

LETTERS,  FAMILIAR  DIALOGUES,  AND  VARIOUS   INVESTIGA- 
TIONS OF  DIFFICULT  PASSAGES  OF  SCRIPTURE: 
&MONG  WHICH   IS  A  COPIOUS  EXPLANATION  OF  THE  TWEN- 
TY-FIFTH CHAPTER  OF  MATTHEW; 

THE  SON  OF  PERDITION; 

THE  PARABLE  OF  THE  RICH  MAN,  AND  THE  BEGGARj 
THE  DISCIPLE  WHO  BETRAYED  HIS  MASTER; 

&C.&C.  &C. 


Applicants  may  be  furnished  with  this  work  on  the  terms  it  was  06- 
iained  by  subscribers. 

It  cannot  be  sold,  consistent  with  rectitude,  except  by  the  EDITOR, 
at  No.  5,  Franklin-Place,  Boston  ; 

By  the  Rev.  EDWARD  MITCHELL,  City  of  New- York  ; 

And  by  Mr.  THOMAS  DOBSON,  Bookseller,  City  of  Philadelphia., 


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